To Sleep No More
by Ginny Ha-ha
Summary: Hogwarts has been destroyed. Magic has been outlawed. Harry, Hermione, Malfoy and Ginny are 4 of the last surviving Magical people after the war. But they have been found out by a Muggle who will kill them if she can... PG13 for over-all content
1. The Last Survivors

To Sleep No More

By Ginny :)

_"To die: to sleep no more; and, by a sleep to say we end the heart- ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation devoutly to be wished."_

-- Hamlet, by William Shakespeare 

The parts in italics are by my original character, a Muggle, Jacqueline Raoul. This part has been re- written, for various reasons. It's still basically the same, though... 

I own MRAMF, Jacqueline Raoul, Jonathan Haperston, the storyline, and that's pretty much it. Robert Swindells owns that line about '_Suddenly, everyone wanted only one thing; to be a survivor.', _ and J. K Rowling owns the rest of the characters. 

Please read & review! 

Ginny :) 

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_We owe them so much._

_We owe them terror._

_We owe them horror._

_We owe them murder._

_We owe them their deaths._

_We owe them so much. So very, very much._

_I don't enjoy my job. But I don't hate it. I just... do it. It's a part of life. Like the falling of the rain, or the setting of the sun. It just happens, and you try not to let it affect you too much._

_I wouldn't have said that I'm a cold and heartless person, but then, if you asked the witches and wizards that I worked against if I am, they almost certainly would say so. _

_It is a long story. And so, where better to start then the beginning?_

_There was a war. Before the war, everyone wanted to be a teacher, or a popstar, or a computer game designer. Suddenly, everyone wanted only one thing; to be a survivor. _

_It was an overcrowded profession._

_There was a war between witches and wizards against other witches and wizards; 'good against evil' we were told. We ordinary humans had known nothing of these strange magical people, until they began to fight. Then the world seemed to fall apart. They fought against each other, although we 'Muggle' people were the ones to really suffer. We had no magic powers. We had no spells to make us invisible, heal our wounds, or rebuild our houses. _

_And why should they, these people with the magical powers, Spacers as we called them, the people causing all this destruction, who considered us so inferior, wish to help us? They did not. My daughter was killed, and I know they could have saved her. I just know. But they said there was nothing they could do._

_With all that power, and all that magic, they couldn't help even one sick child? Maybe it's me, but I don't believe that. _

_Maybe that's one thing that makes my job easier. They would not save my child, so why should I help theirs? Don't judge me by what I do. You would be the same in my position._

_After their war ended, death rates rose amongst us 'Muggles'. A mystery desiese. The wizards and witches were not affected by it. My son died. My husband died. My sister and brother died. _

_So, it was made illegal to be a witch or wizard. So, what do I do about it? I'll tell you;_

_I kill people for a living. Well, not really people; witches and wizards. Still, same difference, eh?_

_Ring ring._

_Ring ring._

_Ring ring._

_Ring ri-_

_"Hello?" I answered the phone._

_"Jacqueline Raoul?"_

_"Speaking."_

_"This is Mr. Jonathan Harperston, of the British government speaking on behalf of your Prime Minister. We have job for you." _

_"Hey, yeah?"_

_"We have a number of known witches and wizards who need to be tracked down and dealt with."_

_"Look, mate," I told him "It's not my job to track people down. Just to get rid of them. So go and find someone else, will you?"_

_"Miss Raoul, if you are instructed to track down the suspects, you will do so. As it is, we have enough leads to go on for you to find them without too much trouble." _

_"So, give me the 'leads', and I'll do it," I told him._

_"All right. I'll meet you in an hour at Canary Wharf-- or what's left of it. Can you make it?" _

_"I'll try. But you know what the train system is like. I might be a little late, OK?"_

_"No, Miss Raoul, it's not OK. You will be there on time," the line went dead. He must have put down the phone. Bloody government officials. Who does he think he is? The chief of the MIB? [A/n; Men In Black]_

_As life would have it, I was able to make it on time. Canary Wharf was pretty different to how I remembered it. It was now a shell of what it was. It used to be a huge block of flats, bustling with people, bloody tall. I know that the IRA [Irish Republican Army.] bombed it once, years ago, but it had been repaired._

_This time, no one had bothered to rebuild it. It was like a hollow cuboid, burnt up, and glass littered the pavement all around it, like a million fallen stars._

_Luckily, any bodies that might had belonged to people who died in it's destruction had been removed since. I still felt sick to my stomach looking at it, though._

_"Miss Raoul?"_

_"Wha'?" I spun round. My hand went to where I have to keep a gun, in case I'm attacked, although it's little defence against a wand. I'd completely forgotten about the geezer I was supposed to be meeting._

_"Miss Raoul?" he repeated._

_"That's me, mister."_

_He was the smartest dressed bloke I'd seen since the beginning of the war. I guessed he might have had his clothes shipped in from abroad, else he'd be dressed like everyone else. You have to be careful, though; people round here would kill for a suit like that, me included, on a bad day. Luckily, I get paid just enough to keep myself decent. _

_"We have tracked down the Spacers," he meant the magic people. It's what we call them in the government, "and we have a record of their profiles. Here," he handed me a pile of sooty and fingermarked sheets of paper._

_"Hmmm... these the Spacers I gotta get?"_

_"Of course."_

_I studied the sheets;_

_**NAME; Virginia Frances Weasley**_

_**AGE; 23**_

_**APPEARENCE; Red hair, brown eyes, freckles, slim build-- Photo enclosed. **_

_**OTHER INFO; Mostly harmless, unless cornered. Member of the MRAMF [Magical Resistance Against Muggle Forces] group. ** _

_**NAME; Hermione Helenor Granger.**_

_**AGE; 24**_

_**APPEARENCE; brown hair and eyes, slightly large front teeth. --Photo enclosed**_

_**OTHER INFO; one of the leaders of MRAMF. Extremely intelligent, and should not be underestimated.**_

_**NAME; Draco Malfoy.**_

_**AGE; 24**_

_**APPEARENCE; silver- blonde hair, grey eyes. Of small build and under average height. --Photo enclosed**_

_**OTHER INFO; Potentially dangerous, especially if cornered. **_

_**NAME; Harry James Potter**_

_**AGE; 24**_

_**APPEARENCE; Black hair, green eyes. Distinctive lightening- bolt shaped scar on forehead. Of small build. -- photo enclosed. **_

_**OTHER INFO; Leader of MRAMF along with HERMIONE HELENOR GRANGER. Potentially dangerous.**_

_I had to admit, some of those names rang a bell. Harry Potter... wasn't he really important in the Wizard/ wizard war, even though he was so young? They said he was on the 'good' side. Yeah... good for what? Nothing, that's what. Nothing, that is, except destroying lives...._

_____________________________________ 

"Harry?" 

"What?" Harry Potter looked up from where he had been sitting, staring that the floor. 

Hermione was twisting her hands uncomfortably in front of her. He could tell that she was nervous. 

"Something's up. I can feel it. Can't you tell?" she blinked at him. 

"Yes... but I couldn't say what it was." 

"Oh..." he paused "Where's Ginny?" 

"She's out, getting food." 

"Good," Harry didn't know what else to say. Ginny helped steal food for them, when she could. She'd probably be better off if she was caught and shot. At least it wouldn't be cold in Heaven. And she'd be with her family. 

"Harry?" 

"Yes?" 

"I miss the others." 

"Me too... but we've got to keep going, you know that?" 

"I know, I know... we can't let them beat us," Hermione rubbed her eyes which were heavy with tiredness. 

"Right." 

"I need some sleep. You OK?" 

"Could be worse. I'll keep watch. You go and get some rest." 

"Thanks," she hugged him briefly, and left into the remainders of the room opposite 

Harry sat and listened to his friend falling asleep. Everything was quiet. He was beginning to nod off, when suddenly, a noise made him bring his head sharp up. 

He waited a minute or so. No more noise. 

Harry let himself relax. It was probably just his imagination. 

No! There it was again! 

Someone, or something, was moving inside the only other room in the dugout that had no one in it. The food store. Harry's hand went into his pocket for his wand. 

He made his way slowly towards the source of the noise. He was taking no chances. Whoever it was could be armed. It could be a Muggle investigator, planning to kill them all. It could be anyone. 

Harry stepped through the door. 

"Malfoy!" 

In the shadows, he could make out the bony face of Draco Malfoy. Harry had assumed that he was dead, along with the other members of the organisation Malfoy had been part of. Harry didn't quite know if Malfoy was friend or foe. 

"So, you found me, Potter," Malfoy glared at him. Harry noticed that he was not armed "are you going to kill me?" 

"Why would I do that?" Harry lowered his wand. 

"Don't tell me that you wouldn't love to, because I _know _ you would." 

"Don't be stupid. We're on the same side now. Just don't nick our food; we need it." 

"You think you're so great, don't you, Potter." Malfoy glared at him, "You haven't changed a bit since school, I can already see that. Now, if your not going to kill me, let me leave." 

"Harry, who-?" a voice came up behind him. 

"It's Draco Malfoy, Hermione. Stealing food." 

"I was not. I don't need to steal from _you_. I have plenty of food, thank you very much." 

"Well," Hermione shrugged, "you won't want to share lunch with us then. Let him go, Harry." 

But Malfoy, whose pale and gaunt face had lit up at the references to lunch, seemed reluctant to go, although he was unwilling to admit it. 

"All right, Mudblood. I'll go. Move out of my way, Potter," he strode forwards purposefully. 

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to have lunch with us, Malfoy?" Hermione called after him. Malfoy stopped in his tracks. 

"Hermione!" Harry objected. 

"And what makes you think I want to share my lunch with a Mudblood, a weasel and a potty?" 

"Fine then, don't," she shrugged, "your loss is our gain." 

"Hermione, I-" 

"Shush, Harry. Malfoy?" 

Malfoy paused for a moment, then turned to her. 

"All right," he said at last "although this doesn't mean I like any of you, or that I'm not perfectly capable of finding my own lunch." 

"Of course not," Hermione assured him "we hate you too. But we're all on the same side. We have to stick together, right?" 

Malfoy looked at her for another long moment. 

"Right," he agreed, reluctantly. 

"Hermione," Harry interrupted again, "can I have a word with you?" 

"All right. Malfoy, just go into that room there. Don't steal or anything, or we _will_ throw you out, no questions asked." 

Malfoy muttered something, but did as she bade him. It was obvious that he had been fairing at least as bad as Harry, Hermione and Ginny, more likely, worse. 

As soon as Malfoy was out of earshot, Harry turned on Hermione. 

"What did you do that for?!" 

"What?" She blinked at him, as if innocently. 

"You know what! Letting that... that... that Death Eater in here, giving him our food...!" 

"He isn't a Death Eater, Harry." 

"How do you know?! Honestly! How can you let him in here?!" 

"Harry, he's on our side. He doesn't have a choice," Hermione looked at him "The Death Eaters are all gone, now. Voldemort is gone. There are only two sides left; ours or the Muggles'. And Malfoy can't exactly side with the Muggles, so, we don't give him a choice, right?" 

"The Death Eaters killed your parents like Voldemort killed mine! How can you let him in here?" 

"Harry..." Hermione bit her lip, "Harry..." she broke off again, and seemed to brace herself "Just trust me. I don't like him any more then you do, but trust me... we all have to stick together, all of us witches and wizards, or else the Muggles will win. And we can't let them do that, or are you going to let them beat us?" she glared at him for a moment, and he looked back at her, "Harry, he's staying. That's all there is to it." 

She swept away. Harry stared after her. 

He was angry, so he didn't go in, even when Ginny came back with her pockets full of pilfered food. She gave him a bright smile, and told him she'd got cheese, and even some chocolate digestive. 

He ignored her, and sat there until it got dark. 

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Please be nice and read and review! 

Constrictive Criticism is espacially appriciated! 

Ginny :) 


	2. Don't Forget Your Pointed Stick!

'To Sleep No More' Part 2

By Ginny :)

OK, here is part 2. I've done a little updating, once again, for various reasons... it's still 99% the same, though! For all you who didn't understand/ got confused about what I was going on about in Part 1, this is what's happened; There was a wizard/ wizard war, in which good [i.e.; everyone who wasn't on Voldemort's side] battled evil [Death Eaters and their supporters]. Thousands of witches and wizards ['Spacers'], and just as many Muggles, were killed. Most of England was destroyed, and London was completely bombed to the ground. Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Draco Malfoy are the 4 last Spacers that they know of... others were either killed, or gone missing, presumed dead [This includes the rest of the Weasleys and the Grangers]. 

Magic was made illegal, and all Spacers were to be killed if found out. Unfortunately, Jacqueline Raoul found out about Harry and Co., and has been ordered to kill them... 

I own Jacqueline. J. K. Rowling owns her characters. Richmal Crompton owns the 'dead cat for a dead cat' quote, and the bloke who wrote 'Blackadder' owns that. Some deluded person or other owns 'Annie'. 

Ummm... hope that made sense! 

Ginny :) 

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Harry sat outside the dugout that he and his two remaining friends arrived back home. 

Since _when_ was it up to Hermione to let that Death Eater, Draco Malfoy, into their home? It wasn't fair. Didn't they understand?! Malfoy was an enemy... he'd fought against them in the War! How could he be on their side now, just because the war was over? Why should he get any of Harry's food? Why should he- 

"Harry? Are you sure you're all right?" It was Ginny. He ignored her, "Harry... look, don't be like this. Come on, come inside." 

"No." He refused her offer flatly. 

She sighed and sat down next to him, on the rubble, "I don't like Malfoy either. But Hermione's right... if we're to stand any chance against the Muggles, we all have to pull together, _you_ know that." She was watching his face. He was careful not to show any emotion at all. 

"Harry, if you're really that bothered, you can have some of my food. I don't want it." 

This was an obvious lie. Ginny was extremely thin, so that when she bent over, you got the feeling that she might snap in two. Harry, Hermione and Malfoy were in similar states. If the Muggles didn't kill them, the cold or lack of food would do. The war had taken it's toll on their magic. Without places for healthy plants to come from, they couldn't even magic it out of the air any more. It was now like that with almost everything else they needed. 

"It's not about the food," Harry frowned. 

"I didn't think so; it's Malfoy." 

"Yes," Harry agreed, before continuing, "I mean, he comes here, stealing our food, and Hermione practically gives it to him!" 

"Well, we have to stick together." 

"He's a Death Eater! He can't join MRAMF! Aren't I leader, as well as Hermione?!" 

"Harry... the other's would have wanted all us witches and wizards to stick together. Even ex- Death Eaters. Even Malfoy! It's what the others would have wanted, surely?" 

"The others are dead, Ginny! D-E-A-D. Dead. So it doesn't matter what they'd think, does it? You're still acting as though they just, just, just went on holiday or something! Face it; they're not coming back. Ever!" He felt angry. He knew it wasn't fair to take it out on Ginny, but he didn't care at that moment. 

She had stopped looking at him, and was staring at the ground in front of her. Harry could tell that she was trying not to cry. 

It began to rain. Large droplets of water fell from the sky. Harry could remember Mrs. Weasley calling them 'pennies from Heaven'. 

"Ginny... Look, Ginny, I'm sorry..." he'd been mean, and he knew it. Ginny was only trying to help. She wanted life to go back to the way it had been as much as he did. But that wasn't going to happen, he could see that, whereas Ginny... she seemed to wake up every morning, expecting the world to have put itself right. If only life were like that. 

Hermione was a realist. She had her feet on the ground, and when she smiled, it was an empty smile. She knew that life was not going to get better. Ginny, on the other hand, always believed that tomorrow, everything would be all right. The problem with that was, that tomorrow was 'always a day away', like in the song that annoying red hared American kid used to sing. Ginny was only just becoming aware of this. And she hated it. 

She rubbed her eyes furiously, angry with herself and him. 

"I just want everything to be OK again," she sniffed, "like it used to be. I miss the others. It's not fair. I _hate_ it here." 

"I'm sorry... I miss them too. But we have to face up to the fact they're gone," he looked at her, but she avoided his eye, "Buck up, Ginny," he got to his feet, "and let's go inside." 

As they stood up, Malfoy appeared at the door. He said nothing, but gave them a look of malice. He was too proud to admit that he had needed any of their food or help, although it was obvious that he did. Harry glared after him, in intense dislike. 

Harry and Ginny disappeared into the remains of the hovel that they called home, unaware that their own private little world, their organisation, their homes, and the lives that they had just manage to sort out to get through the aftermath of the war, was about to collapse around them. 

A shooting star fell, but blurred through the Pennies from Heaven. Somewhere, a feather was found indoors. But it was a peacock's feather. The person who found it tied the hair from their brush in a knot and threw it in the fire, but it would not burn. The salt got spilled, but to someone's left side. 

The portents of evil battled against those of good. The two clashed. The future was uncertain. 

Ginny stared at the room that she lived in most. A bed. A chair of sorts, with a mouldering book on it. A dented cabinet. Nothing much. There used to be so many people in MRAMF. Now there was only herself and 2 others. Everyone else was either dead or missing. She realised that she was crying. She hadn't cried properly since her family had been killed a couple of years ago, but she did now. Things weren't really going to get better. Why was she deluding herself? 

She hung around for a while, chewing a piece of cold potato and staring at the damp- stained wall. Then she left. 

____________________________________________________________________________________________ 

JAQULINE'S POV 

_Can't say I really knew where I was supposed to be looking. Can't say I'd know if I saw a witch or wizard without their wand, either, provided they weren't in their robes or whatever. They look just like normal people. _

_That Jonathan bloke from the government had managed to direct me to approximately where the MRAMF members would be. I'd have to look for that Draco Malfoy boy myself. England's a bloody big place, so how on Earth or in Heaven I was supposed to be able to find him was beyond me. Luckily, I have my sources. _

_The place was a waste- ground. The shells of old buildings were silhouetted against the sky. Glass, mud, rubbish and bits of brick littered the ground. It was a bleak place to live; even worse then my local area. And this is where MRAMF were, apparently. Urgh. It almost made you feel sorry for them._

_A tripped over something. The body of a cat. It smelled rank. A line from a book I must have read somewhere came up in my mind; 'an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a dead cat for a dead cat'. You could live by that rule in times like these; a dead wizard for a dead Muggle._

_I kept my hand ready to grab my gun if I needed it. People will kill for the clothes on your back, or the shoes on your feet, or even the flesh on your bones in places like this. You have to stay alert, if you want to survive. _

_The place was so still, it was impossible to believe that anything was alive. The rain fell in large drops, plastering my hair to my head. I stood there, watching for any movement. It was silent, save for the drumming of rain on mud. _

_It was then I noticed the outline of someone- it was definitely a human... Muggle or Spacer, I couldn't tell. They were racing across the rough ground, stumbling every few steps. _

_"Hello?!" I shouted. The figure glanced up for maybe a second, and I saw a thin face of a young man, framed by pale hair. I recognised that face. Draco Malfoy! Talk about bally luck! Then he ran on, with increased speed. _

_There was nothing else for it. I grabbed my gun and fired. 3 shots. The first two missed, but the third hit him in the back. I saw him twist in the air as he fell. _

_He fell to the ground._

_He lay still._

_Was he dead?_

_I pocketed my gun, and walked cautiously over to the body that lay motionless on the rubble. I stood just close enough to see if he was still breathing._

_He was, but there was blood everywhere, and he was deathly pale. I felt almost sick, but I reminded myself what he and his kind had done, and the pity in me left. _

_"Can you hear me?" I asked him. I might as well make use of him whilst he was still alive, after all._

_He nodded weekly._

_"Good. So tell me, where are the members of MRAMF?" _

_"Why should I tell you, Muggle?" He choked, his voice scarcely more then a whisper._

_"Because otherwise I will shoot you."_

_"I'll die anyway," I could see hatred in his eyes. I couldn't say that I could blame him for it. I mean, I'd just shot him in the back. Not very sporting. Still, a job's a job. I shrugged._

_"So will we all, mister. Tell me, or I will do something worse then letting you die mercifully."_

_He lay helpless on the ground. I wouldn't really have done anything else to him, but he wouldn't know that._

_"You wouldn't."_

_"I would. I'm sure I could think of thousands of things that I could do to a dirty Spacer like you..."_

_ He shut his eyes, grimacing. I was mildly surprised as he answered._

_"There's... there's a dugout... not far... three of them are there. You will not defeat us wizards, Muggle. The Ministry will get you."_

_"Oh, I assure you, they won't," shrugged off his threat._

_He closed his eyes. I had no more time for him. I fired one more shot at him. I don't know if it was a hit or miss. I ran off to find the others._

____________________________________________________________________________________________ 

"What was that?!" Hermione's head came up sharply off her arm. 

The friends exchanged frightened glances. 

Some shouting, and another two shots could be heard, followed by a ghastly silence. Harry and Hermione stared at each other, not knowing what to do. 

Hermione said something that Harry didn't catch. He knew that sound. Gunfire. But who was shooting? A woman... he could tell by the shouts... something about Spacers and Muggles... put two and two together, and you got one dead witch or wizard. But who had been shot? Where were the others? 

He didn't care where Malfoy was, but what about Ginny? She'd come inside with him, wandered off on her own, and he hadn't seen her since. He could tell that Hermione was thinking the same thing. Another shot rang out. Harry decided to do something. 

"Come on!" he pulled Hermione to her feet, and out of the room, "Where's Ginny?" 

"I don't know! Somewhere!" 

he made sure that his wand was in his pocket. Compared to a gun, it looked pretty useless. Like a stick or something. A phrase from a play came up in his mind, even though he knew this was not the time for it ; " '_Don't forget your pointed stick, George.' 'Oh, rather, sir! Wouldn't want to face enemy guns without that' !"_

There were three rooms in the dugout. Ginny wasn't in any of them. 

"Oh God," Hermione breathed, "do you know where she went?" 

"No... Hermione, you leave. Run. Get away from here. It isn't safe. I'll stay and look for her." 

"Harry, don't be an imbecile! I'm staying." Harry knew that face she was wearing. It was her 'This is for the best and you can't change my mind' face. 

"Hermio-" 

"Harry! I said I'm staying and I am. If we're not both staying, we're both going. Like it or lump it." 

"Hermione, this is no time to arg-" 

"Then shut up!" 

He gave up trying to reason with her. 

"Fine, come on! Have you got your wand?" 

"Of course." 

"So... we're going to look for Ginny..." 

"Yes," but then Hermione's face softened, "but we don't know... oh, Harry... she might be, well... dead." 

"She isn't. She can't be," Harry bit his lip, hoping he was right. 

"Yes, well... quite. We're wasting time. Come on!" 

They surfaced from the dugout. Harry could feel butterflies in his stomach, and Hermione looked peaky, too. 

No one was in sight. 

Everything was still, except for the rain that fell form the sky. The pennies from heaven. 

A good omen. 

They stood stock still, hoping for some signs of life. 

____________________________________________________________________________________________ 

OK, the end of part 2! :) 

Please could you take a little time to read & review? 

Ginny :) 


	3. Act like the Innocent Flower...

'To Sleep No More' Part 3

By Ginny :) who can't be bothered with that Fenchurch name any more because I always forget to sign in at it and no one cares anyway.

In this part, you will get to find out what happened to Ron. Lucky you. 

Please read, review and have a nice day whilst I go completely mad and no one notices [already happened]. 

This starts a little while before Ginny hears the shots that [Muggle] Jacqueline fires [stuff in italics is mainly Jacqueline's POV, by the way, unless it blatantly isn't]. Spacers= Muggle word for magic people. Just reminding you. 

I only own Jaquline Raoul, the as- yet- unnamed- geezer- with- the- gun- that- Ginny- hides- from, and myself; my mind controlling aliens didn't get me yet!!! The rest belong to JKRowling. Have a nice day. 

Sorry I took so very long writing this. The site went a bit buggered and wouldn't let me poast. *Galres at the computor screen*... oh, and thanks to hermione potter for beta-ing this. Spelling mistakes are, therefore, her fault, j/k! :) 

Ginny :) 

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Ginny picked her way across the rubble.  
The sky was beginning to grow dark. It was a mix of reds, pinks and oranges.   
'Red sky at night, shepherd's delight'. 

The Pennies from Heaven pitter- pattered on the ground, and flattened Ginny's unbrushed red hair to her head, making it darker then it usually was.   
She was crying. Remembering the old days. What Harry had said was now embedded in her mind. 'The others are dead, Ginny! D-E-A-D. Dead'. She had known that for ages, of course, but it was an unspoken thing. The others were 'gone', 'no longer with us', 'pushing up daisys', or 'passed on'.  
  
She shut her eyes against the drive of the rain, now like an upright sea, but with slots in it. Ginny let her mind wander.   
  
~*~*~*~FLASHBACK~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Ginny! Hi! Come in!" Ron smiled at her.  
  
"Hi," she stepped over the doorstep of his new flat. It looked Muggle, although Ginny assumed that it would have it's secrets inside.   
  
"What have you been up to, recently?" Ron smiled at her.  
  
"This and that, you know. I've been trying to find somewhere to live. Now we've beaten those bloody Death Eaters, life should go back to normal, eh?"  
  
"Well, that's assuming the Muggles don't do anything against us. And let's face it, they might."  
  
"Do you think so?" Ginny bit her lip. All she needed was for life to go wrong again. It wasn't so bad at the moment.   
  
"I know for a fact," he lowered his voice "that there are some, er, locally, and... well, they do say that if they find any of our kind round here, they're as good as dead."   
  
She gasped "Ron, you can't stay here, then-"  
  
"I'm not sure that it's safe," Ron admitted to her, "but I don't think they've found me out yet. I'll stay a little longer. Don't worry 'bout it."   
  
He lead her though to the drawing room. It was small and cluttered, and a little bit dingy, truth be told, but felt like a home. You could tell it was supposed to be lived in.  
  
Ginny sat down on the setee, and looked around the room.   
  
"Nice place you've got here."  
  
"Ta, sis. Cuppa?"  


"Please. And don't call me sis, you know I hate it."   
  
"Oh, OK."   
  
Ron grabbed a teapot from the top of the cooker, and made to pour the boiling mixture into a mug for Ginny. She noticed, as he poured, his hands seemed to shake more then usual. She wondered why he didn't use magic. Maybe he was trying to practice posing as a Muggle.   
  
He swore as he spilt the liquid over his hand and the table.  
  
Ginny got her wand out of her pocket, and did a simple spell to make the stain vanish, and heal Ron's burn.  
  
"Thanks, sis," he nodded to her.  
  
"We've been through this," she objected, "my name is not sis. It's Ginny."  
  
She wondered why Ron was acting strangely. Maybe he was just jumpy about living so close to Muggles.   
  
"Sorry," he answered, then "Er..." he fought for something to say. He had apparently forgotten about the tea, "How's Neville?"  
  
"Dead," said Ginny, shortly "and you know it."   
  
"Ah," he blinked, then appologised "Sorry, I-" but then a noise interrupted him. Like a wall being bashed in, or someone trying to break down a door. It was coming from the corridoor outside the flat. Ginny's eyes widened in fear.  
  
"Ron! Where can we hide?"  
  
"No way, no Muggle's gonna make me run! Just when I found a place to live!"  
  
"Don't be a bloody fool! They might have guns!" she shrieked at him, as he pushed her backwards, and into a cupboard stationed at the side of the room, as she lost her balence, she dropped her wand, which rolled away, just out of reach as Ron pushed her back, "Ron, you haven't got your wand! You don't have a chance!"  
  
"You hide! I don't want you to get hurt! I'm gonna get 'em!"   
  
This wasn't like him, what the Hell was he doing?! Ginny could not remember ever being so scared. Her heart was banging in her ribs, and she had to try not to scream.  
  
"Don't, please, don't... Ron!" the cupboard door was shut in her face.. She tried to force it open, but it would not budge an inch. She was sobbing, and yelling at Ron to let the door back open. He ignored her. She beat at the door. It remained stationary.   
  
She banged on the sides of the cupboard, but they remained in one piece. She wished she had her wand. As the sound   
  
Then there came the sounds of shouting from inside the flat, and more gunfire. Ginny heard Ron cry out, as if in pain. After that, she didn't hear his voice again. Then, crashes and bangs, as if the place was being wrecked by vandals. The cupboard she was in was pushed over by someone she could not, of course, see, and a shooting pain ran through her head, and her heart seemed to skip a beat.  
They're going to find me and kill me, too! She thought.  
  
Then all went black.  
  
~*~*~End Flashback ~*~*~  
  
Ginny realised that she was still staring at the sky, horribly exposed to danger so out in the open. She was shaking. Crying with the terrible memories that would not leave her.  
  
In a way, she supposed, it was a mercy that she didn't see her brother die, although the echos of that night still rang around her head all this time later.  
  
His body had never been found. Just a puddle of blood, later adentified as Ron's. Almost all the wizards in the local area were killed that night. A few, like Ginny, hid and lived. But the memories lived with them. It was like Voldemort all over again.  
  
Then the dream seemed to be made all the more real, as the noise of gun shots thundered out, with un-natural loudness, over the desolate landscape.  
  
Ginny jumped to her feet automatically, her heart in her mouth. Gun shots sent her all to pieces, nowadays. Harry and Hermione! Were those shots fired at them? If not... who? Ginny gripped her wand tight. She ran towards the source of the noise, although the way it had echoed made it hard for her to find the right direction.   
  
JAQULINE'S POV  
  
_After firing the last remaining shots at the Malfoy boy, I knew that there was only a little point in staying around; any Spacers nearby would surely have heard them, and would either be hiding in the dugout, or running away as fast as they could.   
  
All the same... it was my job to investigate, and if I gave them time, they might just run away and not come back. I couldn't afford for that to happen. I didn't know how much I was going to get paid for wiping these few wizards out, but I could guess that it would only be just enough. Though it's good money, you know. Can't turn your nose up at it, or you end up with only just what you started with. And I can't be having that.   
  
So, I left the boy to die- for surely he would, regardless of weather my final bullets had missed him- and hurried on, in the direction he had indicated. There was no point in allowing the Spacers time to take action.   
  
And it was something of a stroke of luck, that I found them.   
  
The Potter boy, and his friend. They were two hard black figures, outlined against the smoke grey sky. They were running, looking around desperately, and calling.  
  
"Ginny? Malfoy? Where are you? Ginny?"  
  
I watched them for a while. They didn't notice me. I followed them as best I could. Maybe they would lead me to the missing girl. And if they didn't, it wouldn't matter. I'd kill them and find her some other time.   
  
It soon became obvious to me that they were making no progress in finding the other girl, and they seemed to have decided that they themselves were in no immeadiate danger, and stopped running.   
  
I had kept low, trying to stay unnoticed, but now there was no point. If there had to be a confrontation, why not shoot them now, and find the other later? She would have to return to her home one day.   
  
I aimed my gun at the boy. He was close enough now. I fired.   
  
The bullet missed his body, where I had been aiming to kill, but hit him hard in the leg. He doubled over and fell to the floor with a yell of pain, and I could see the dark red of his blood soaking his trousers. Not a bad shot, if I say so myself.  
  
The girl screamed. She had obviously had no idea I was so close. She looked wildly around, as if trying to see where the shot had been fired from, but I crouched down low, and her gaze travelled over me. She fumbled around, trying to pull the Potter kid to his feet, without sucess. I fired again. Damn! Missed. I kept myself pressed close to the ground, so that she could not determine the exact source of the bullets by sight. She sent some curse or other to where she guessed I was. It missed me by several feet.   
  
I had 2 more bullets left. Was it worth risking them? Dangerous times, after all... but on the other hand, you should strike while the iron is hot, and if I killed either one of them, I'd get good money...  
  
Another shot. This one hit the boy again, although it was not immeadiately fatal. The girl was panicing now, trying to drag him out of firing range at first, then giving up and putting a spell on him to make him float along the ground. This made him a far easier target the if he was lying down, or even stumbling along. One more well aimed shot, and he'd be dead. She started sending more curses and hexes to try and hit me. They missed. I smiled to myself, propped myself to just the right height and-   
  
"Argh!" A shooting pain hit me in my gun hand. There was no blood, and I hadn't seen the girl send a curse towards me so what-?  
  
"Ginny!" the girl cried "Ginny, I can't see-"   
  
"I know where she is!" a new voice shouted from behind me. Damnit! I had only one bullet left now, and anyway, I was now unable to move the hand holding my gun; it had frozen.  
  
"Ginny, you have to keep her back, and I'll get Harry somewhere safe! Be careful; she's got a gun!"  
  
I was tempted to send a bullet towards either the new, red haired girl, who I could now see close behind me, or the first girl. I had a feeling that I would need that bullet to protect myself any time now. I cursed for having wasted so many bullets on Malfoy, when one quick bullet to the head would have done him.   
  
"Hermione! I can't fight her, I-"  
  
"Ginny, please, you have to! I'll get Harry somewhere safe, 'cause I'm sure I can find some potions to help him. I promise I'll be back as soon as I can."  
  
"Hermione-"  
  
But she was off, with the boy dangling like a puppet in the air behind her. I pulled myself to my feet, and began to run. The girl persued me, but didn't send any curses after me. I slowed down, and she caught up a little.  
  
She wouldn't hurt me. I could see fear in her eyes as she drew closer, and knew that she couldn't. I had to admit as I saw her closer to; she looked somewhat familiar, although I couldn't quite think why.   
  
She raised her wand.  
  
"G- go," she said, her voice shaking, "Go, o- or, I'll k-k-kill you."  
  
"I have bullets left, you know. If you do anything to me, I could kill you stone dead," I kept my voice calm.. This girl was a little younger then the others, and a good ammount younger then I. I wasn't sure if she knew I was bluffing. I hoped not.  
  
She bit her lip, and seemed to be trying to keep as calm as I hoped I sounded, although every nearve in my body was screaming at me to get out of there.  
  
"Then go. Leave us a-alone," she told me, "if you g-go now, and d-don't do a-anything else, I won't hurt y- you," then a thought seemed to strike her, "where's M- malfoy? Did you-?"_

_ "He's somwehere around," I gave her a cold smile, "you'll find him, right enough." _

_"Is h- he...?"_

_"You'll have to find that out for yourself, girlie." _

_"Oh..."  
  
I stared at her, feeling a mix of hatrid and sympathy in my gut. This girl was one of those who had helped wreck my life. On the other hand she was so terribly frightened... and, she reminded me of someone. But who, though...?I   
couldn't think. And... what was her name? Ginny... Virginia Weasley, right? I have to say, it rang a bell, somewhere in the fathoms of my mind.   
  
She was stupid, letting me leave like this. If I had have been able to shoot her there and then, I would have. But I would be back.   
  
"I'll go."  
  
"Right. Keep a-away from us."   
  
"Ok," I backed slowly away, finally turning to leave, still trying to   
remember where I had seen a face much like her's before.__   
_

THE END! Now, please read, review, and remember me for the Golden Toad Award and/ or The Phoenix Quill thingy. Have a nice day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Ginny :) 


	4. But Be The Serpant Under't

'To Sleep No More' Part 4

Still by Ginny :)

Sorry this too so long... I've been ill... *sniffle* ... :( Poor me. 

Jacqueline belongs to me, BUT I don't expect you want her. I also own the 'little child', who, I might as well add, is no good to anyone, really. 

Spacers= magic people. 

I'll just say, this has a hint of H/ R in it, although not much, for [I think] obvious reasons. 

If anyone wants a little more detail about anything mentioned in the fic, tell me in your review, and I'll try and add it in a future part, K? If you were confused before, this part might just finish you off ~_^. Have a nice day. 

Ginny :) 

____________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Ginny found Harry and Hermione back at the Dugout a little later, Hermione armed with bandages conjured up by her wand, and breaking up a few dead- looking plants, which would, in theory, go into potions to help heal Harry's injuries. Harry was near unconscious from pain, and looked unnaturally white, as though all the blood had been drained from him.   
"Ginny! Are you all right?" Hermione frowned anxiously as her friend wandered in.  
Ginny nodded, looking shaken, "I'm... fine. Just a bit... jittery," She sat down unsteadily, her hands shaking.  
"Did you-?" Hermione began.  
"I let her go. I couldn't have killed her. I just couldn't. She's a human being. You can't just... just kill people," Ginny shook her head at the idea.  
Hermione sighed, with an emotion that Ginny couldn't quite work out, "You should have killed her when you had the chance, you know," Hermione pursed her lips, "but it's good to know at least one of us has a little human goodness..." she added, wiping Harry's blood off her bony hands.   
"Will he be all right?"  
Hermione lowered her voice, presumably so that Harry couldn't hear, "I'd like to hope so," she replied, looking very sober, "but we're going nowhere with him like this, although we don't know how long he'll be like this for. We just don't have the medicines we used to."  
Ginny nodded. She understood. Disease was rife in such unhygienic conditions, with little or no clean water, no clean clothes, there was only a 50/ 50 chance of anyone surviving something like a bullet- wound.  
Ginny didn't think that she could bear to see any more of her friends die. She knew Hermione felt the same. At the moment, they were staying alive for each other, as well as for resistance against the Muggles.  
All of them now had horrors in their past. Harry had always had no parents, but now his best friend, Ginny's brother, was dead, as well as most of his other friends. Ron's death had come worst to all of them, Hermione as much as anyone. She had been a mother to Ron's- now dead- baby. It had been born without a mouth, just one of the effects of a nuclear fallout that the Muggles had caused. The child, ugly with its unfinished face, had died within a few days; not long after Ron, who had never known of its existence.   
Ginny had never been religious, but still she found herself praying for Harry, Hermione and herself. She prayed for Ron and for the little child's souls.   
She prayed that they would find Malfoy.  
She prayed for life to get better.  
When they did find Malfoy, only hours later, he was dead.  
His blood had soaked into the ground and mingled with the puddle water. 

Hermione and Ginny both found themselves crying, whilst Harry lay asleep in the place they called home.   
  
Jacqueline's POV  
  
_As I made my way home, I couldn't get the face and the name of the girl- Ginny Weasley- out of my mind. I recognised both, but I could not think from where. Weasley. Weasley... red hair, long nose, skinny- not that anyone wasn't these days, but her build was naturally just so-, tall... I knew those traits.   
I was sure that it wasn't the girl that I knew, or else I would have known straight away. Maybe she had relatives? It wasn't impossible.   
Eventually, when I could find no solution for the problem, I considered other things. What would I do about the 3 surviving Spacers? Was Draco Malfoy dead?   
I should have made sure. I cursed myself once again for being so careless.   
I decided to ask for help from some official or other. There was an old building that was used now and again-- I think it was a city farm once upon a time, before the animals had all died or been eaten, that was always occupied by someone or other.  
Also, I'd have to get some life back into my hand where the spell had hit me. It was really beginning to ache now, and there wasn't a thing I could do about it. I needed one of the Spacers- there are a few- who worked for the Government. They are very low ranking, but get a little food and clothing for their services. Not to mention, they get to keep their lives.   
The Spacers in question perform counter- curses for us and the like. We'd be completely stuck without them. I'd have this gun in my grasp for the rest of my life, if we didn't have any working for us. It was-  
Then, as often happens when the mind has left a problem, I knew where I'd seen Ginny Weasley's likeness before; where I'd heard that name.   
Ronald Weasley.  
I knew that name. I could put a face to it now, too. Yes, I knew him all right. He was one of the Spacers who worked for us. I knew him a little, of old. Odd, when you think his relative is still alive-- in most cases, their whole families are dead, which is why they've come to us. I suppose he must have his reasons. I decided to seek him out. He could get the bloody gun off my hand, if nothing else.   
  
~*~*~  
  
I found him exactly where I thought he would be; in the old farmhouse where Spacers who worked for the government were set up.   
"You Ron Weasley?" I asked the tall young man, who was apparently busy doing nothing.  
"Yeah."  
"A Spacer, right?"  
"Uh- huh."  
"Can you get this sodding gun off my hand? And then I think I might want help with something else."  
"You want Help? From a Spacer? Now this is something new," he put on a sarcastic tone.  
"Shut up, wizeguy," I snapped. I could be bothered with petty arguments, "do something about this gun. Oh, and no funny stuff."  
He sighed and waved his wand around, so that my hand was able to move again.   
Well, that was something. I get the impression that he would have done anything but help me, if he'd had the choice, but if he'd done anything to me, there being so many Muggles around, it would have been as good as suicide.   
"Ta, Weasley," I massaged my wrist and fingers, which were aching horribly, and picked up the gun from where I had dropped it on the ground.  
He gave a brief nod, and turned away.   
"I said I wanted help with something else!" I summoned him back.  
"What?"  
"I want you to play the friend for some Spacer 'mates' of mine."  
"Death Eaters?"  
"Don't make me laugh! No, not Death Eaters, just some ordinary Spacers. I think, you might know one of them?"  
He stared at me suspiciously "Who?"  
"Virginia Weasley might ring a bell."  
"I'm not helping you kill my sister! I joined here to work against Death Eaters, not--"  
"You'll have to do whatever I ask you to, Weasley."   
"She thinks I'm dead, anyway, so it's no good trying to-"   
"If she thinks you're dead, then she'll welcome you back with open arms, won't she?"  
He glared at me, but he didn't answer, except to say, "Who are the others?"  
"I don't know if you know them. It's not impossible."   
"Who are the others?" he repeated, a deadly edge to his voice, which was as cold as steel.  
"Well, Draco Malfoy's gone for a Burton, and-"  
"Can you just tell me?!" He interrupted.  
"You'll have heard of Harry Potter, of course, who hasn't? Not forgetting... it might be Harmony- Something like that-"   
He had gone very pale indeed "Hermione Granger. My God. You want me to kill...?"  
"Well, maybe not kill. More like, 'keep an eye on', you know?"   
He stared, not at me, but at the wall, his voice having a rising note of panic in it, "I can't do that. No. No way. Nah- uh. There's... there's certain things... No." He shook his head violently; "I'm not... I couldn't... not my sister, not my two friends..."  
"Well, fine. Have a nice funeral, kid," I turned to go "you don't help us, we don't help you. As from now, you're no longer under Government protection. That means, it's illegal for you to be here. You can be executed, you know, for that. And think how your dear dah-ling friends and sister would feel, if they 'accidentally' found out that you'd been working for us all this time."  
"I never worked against them! That's not why I joined!" he thumped the wall.  
"Temper, temper, Weasley."  
"You can't tell them that, I-"  
"They don't know anything about why you joined, and you needn't think I'll tell them. They will hate you for it, and be glad you died. If you help us Muggles, I shan't tell them you are working against them, so they won't know, and will be overjoyed that you are still alive. It makes sense, doesn't it."  
"Um," he didn't know what to make of this. I watched him open and close his mouth like a goldfish, no sound coming out.  
At last, "All right," he conceded, as he ran his fingers though his hair "I'll... do what I can."  
_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
~*~Ron's Flashback~*~  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~  
"Look, is this really, er, necessary?" Ron frowned at the young Muggle, doubtfully.   
"It's essential that everything is done properly, Weasley."   
"Yes, but can't everything be done properly without faking my death?"  
"No."  
"Why not?"  
"If one of your friends... shall we say... 'blabs' to the Death Eaters, then you will not be able to help the Government fight against them. And then, what would be the point in it?"   
"Um," now he was pretty much lost. Not that this feeling was in any way unfamiliar now.  
Everything had been set for Ron to fake his death. Ginny was to be a witness to the murder that never happened, everything was planned. Ron was going to join the Muggle government to help fight against the Death Eaters. He did not know that, years later, he would rue the day he did. He had promised himself that he would never go against any of his kind except Death Eaters.   
But this Muggle with a foreign- sounding name, this Jacqueline Raoul, who was apparently completely unhinged in her mind anyway, seemed to think he had to go into this awfully complicated mesh of fake deaths and everything. Ron didn't think he could cope with it all.  
And Ginny? What about Ginny? She'd taken Charlie's death, most recently, really hard after all the others; this might just finish her sanity off.   
"Did you tell your sis to come, Weasley?"  
"Yeah. But look, this is-"  
"She'll be here in a moment, then. Me and some others'll be along soon after she gets here. You know what to do, right?"   
Ron nodded silently, his throat tight.   
He knew.   
He was to get Ginny into a cupboard so that she could see nothing of what went on. He would fake a fight with the Muggles, and make sure to leave some convincing blood marks, so that everyone would assume he'd been killed when he was never seen again. Ginny would do for a witness-- anyone else would probably fight back with him.   
Ron hoped he was doing the right thing.   
The Muggles left, leaving him alone...  
There was a knock at the door.  
"Hi!" she smiled brightly.  
_'Will you come into my parlour said the spider to the fly...' _

____________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Please reassure me that this wasn't TOTALLY confusing, and review!!!! 

And don't flame me because it's a little R/ H. I could twist it to H/ H if I wanted, YOU don't know how it's gonna end up. So long as it's not G/ R [Ginny/ Ron], I don't see why you have to complain. Have a nice day! 

I bet if Harry Potter was real, HE would review.*glares daggers at all those non- reviewers*. 


	5. Back From The Dead

'To Sleep No More' Part 5

by Ginny :)

Usual stuff. Bits in italics are Jacqueline's POV, unless it isn't [:)]! Spacer is still the Muggle word for a witch or wizard. This is rated PG for language. I figured that after 2 years of believing Ron was dead, people might be a bit more explicit then 'gosh, I didn't know you were still alive!' :) Apologies for if the characters seem at all out of canon or whatever the terminology is. It's kinda hard to write something like this part with everyone completely in character or whatever. 

How about someone reviewing this part for a change? ~_^ 

Oh yeah... Everyone in this except Jacqueline belong to JKRowling-- NOT Warner Brothers! :p 

Ginny :) 

____________________________________________________________________________________________   
  


Over the next couple of days, life returned to it's now 'normal' state of affairs. Harry, Hermione and Ginny scraped by as best they could, just as they had done before they knew they were in immediate danger. There was no going anywhere with Harry in the state he was in.   
He showed few signs of improvement, and was barely able to walk. For all Hermione's charms and potions, there was little anyone could do. In this time of trouble, there was nowhere to get medicines or cures from. It was like being stuck in a time warp.   
All 3 vowed to stay together, to stay strong against this new opposition, and to keep hope.   
Ginny and Hermione buried Draco's body before it could go bad. They were not above taking his robes from him. As Hermione pointed out, he had no need of them, where he was now, be it in Heaven or in Hell.  
She set to wash the blood out of them in an old rain tub, full of stagnant water.  
"Urgh, how can you touch them?" Ginny wrinkled her nose at the idea "I feel awful, taking them from him."  
"He doesn't need them," Hermione pointed out, scrubbing at the dingy material.  
"I know, but--"  
"Ginny, I feel as bad about it as you do. But we need these robes, and, let's face it, Malfoy won't give a damn now."   
"It's corpse- robbing. Like those Muggles. Er, Burke 'n' Head. Or someone."  
"Burke and Hare. And no, it isn't. They dug up dead bodies and sold them; there's a difference."  
"Lovely," Ginny sat down, and watched Hermione's hands working in the bloody redwater, the skin on them too cracked and dry for a 25 year old.  
"Why don't you go and find something to do?" Hermione suggested, matter- of- factly.  
"Fine," Ginny scowled, and got to her feet, "I'll go and annoy Harry instead, then."  
"I wouldn't," Hermione frowned, "he's asleep."   
"Bloody typical. No one ever wants to talk or anything interesting any more."  
"Because this isn't the time. I'm busy. Now, go and--"   
"Hi," said a voice from the doorway.  
Ginny's eyes widened. She gasped.   
Hermione dropped Malfoy's old robes into the water, gaping, her mouth opening andclosing like a fish's.  
Ron Weasley stood in the doorway, putting an abrupt end to their argument.  
"Ron..?" Ginny managed to say, weakly. She sat down slowly on the edge of the rain tub,because her legs would no longer hold her.  
"Yeah," he gave a brusque nod, "it's me."   
Hermione still didn't say anything.   
"So..." Ron seemed to be searching for something to say, "isn't anyone gonna welcome meback?"  
Ginny and Hermione both stared at him. Neither of them were sure what to make of him just turning up like this, 2 years or so since his apparent death.  
"Ginny... Hermione," he walked over to them, and both noticed the tears in his eyes"Ginny, it's me... Hermione, it's me. Aren't you happy? Please... look, it's me. You know me. At least make me glad to be back."  
Ginny watched his hopelessness, not daring to believe it for a few more seconds, before she decided. It was him! It had to be! She found herself half laughing, half crying, and she grabbed Ron in a hug.   
They were both crying together, Ginny and Ron, hugging, glad to have found each other after so long. Although there was still the tiniest doubt sitting at the back of Ginny's mind,she didn't care. She just had to believe him- if only for now. Questions... well, they could wait! Joy rose inside her like a bubble.  
Hermione watched their reunion, staring.  
Ron and Ginny let go of each other, and he turned to Hermione, while Ginny wiped her eyes on her sleeve.  
"Hermione," he stared into her eyes, "God, Hermione, don't you recognise me or something?" He leant forwards, and kissed her on the mouth.   
"Don't!" She pushed him away, blinking back tears, "Please don't. This is a really sick joke. You're not Ron," she shook her head, "You can't be."  
"I promise, I am."  
"Liar," she replied very softly, her eyes were full of hurt.  
"But I am. Hermione--" he tried to take hold of her arm, but she ducked away, "You're not him. Ron's... Ron's dead!" she screamed the last word, "He's bloody dead! You're not him! My God, you heartless, selfish, complete and utter bastard! Get the Hell out of here!" She made to hit him, but he ducked out of the way.  
Ginny backed away from them. She'd never seen Hermione like this, she was always so calm, and-  
"Hermione-" Ron began cajollingly again.  
"Don't you bleeding well 'Hermione' me! You lousy, bloody, sodding, heartless, idiotic,cruel, selfish, stupid... whoever you are!" between each word she aimed a blow at Ron, who eventually grabbed her arms and pinned them to her sides, so that she was forced to stop hitting him.  
She broke down sobbing, her face full of a mixture of hatred and hopelessness.  
"I... er, I'll go and, um, talk to Harry..." Ginny decided to make herself scarce, and left the room quickly.  
"Hermione, I promise you, I don't want to hurt you. Please, just listen. I won't try and do anything... Please?"  
"All right. I'll listen. But that doesn't mean I believe you for one second."  
"And that's fine for now. Look, why don't you calm down, and I'll explain everything later, yes?"  
She nodded. Her eyes were red from crying, and her hair was falling all over the place.   
"If you are Ron," she whispered, "I'm sorry. I want to believe you, but..." she broke off hopelessly.  
"All right," he replied, sighing, "I should have guessed this would have been a bit of a shock. I expect you've been through a lot since I've been gone."  
"Yes. I have. I think I'm going mad."  
"We're all a bit mad, you know," he gave her a smile, "impossible not to be, in times like these. I'm sure I am," he paused, as Hermione stared at him, as if trying to figure him out, "Where's Harry?" then he saw the look on Hermione's face, "he's not-?"  
"No, no, he's... just a bit ill. He's in the room opposite."   
"Probably wondering what's going on," Ron gave a thin smile "after all that ranting andraving."  
"I expect he's asleep."  
"Ah, all right," as they made to leave, Ron caught Hermione again by the arm, "Hermione," he stared into her eyes, which were so like a little child's, wide, scared and innocent, "I've missed you. I just want you to know that."  
"Yes, well, I don't see how that's possible, seeing as you're dead."  
"You're cruel, you know that?" he put his head on one side.  
"Excuse me? I'm cruel?! I'm not the one impersonating a girl's dead boyfriend!"  
"Well, I'm not impersonating anyone either."  
"Oh! You always were impossible!"  
"So, you do believe I'm Ron?" he gave her a sideways grin.  
"No."  
"You do."  
"I do not."  
"OK, let's go and find Harry. And you do."  
"I don't! Goodness sake! If you are Ron, you haven't matured one bit since you were eleven!"  
"See, you _do_--"  
"I could hit you so hard right now!"  
"You already did."  
"I despair of you, really."  
"Feeling's mutual."  
"You are so annoying!" 

"So are you!"  
"If you feel that way, why don't you just leave?" Ron's- was it really Ron?- face fell. 

"Do you really want me to?" Hermione didn't answer. She looked away. Ron stared at her, "Because if you do..."   
"No. I don't. I don't believe you even for one second, but it'll be nice to imagine. Come on, Harry's in here."  
Harry was asleep, as Hermione had prophesied. Ginny smiled when she saw Ron, and theyhugged again, tears still in both their eyes. Hermione watched with pursed lips.  
"Shall I wake Harry?" Ginny suggested after a moment, smiling at both of them. Her faceshone as though illuminated by a candle.   
"No," Ron grinned "let him wake up on his own. I'll stay here and wait for him. Give him a shock for when he wakes up, eh?"  
"Better not, he might see you and think he's died," Hermione objected.  
"He's not that much of a nitwit," Ron argued, grinning, "although it would have a certain comedy value if he was..." 

"That's sick! Well...shall we wake him?"  
"Nah, I think--"  
"Wha'?" Harry sat up, groggily, "'choo all arguin' 'bout?" he was obviously still half asleep. He rubbed his eyes, groggily.  
"Hi, Harry!" Ron said, obviously trying to sound as though he'd just got back from popping down the street to the off-license.  
Harry sat up, stared at Ron for a long moment, muttered something inaudible, and lay back down again with his eyes shut tight.  
"Harry! Wake up! Ron's here!" Ginny was practically dancing. She shook Harry by the shoulders, her face fixed with a grin that would have had a sane man running for cover.  
Harry sat up, and opened his eyes again, "I've died, haven't I?"  
"Not yet!" Ron laughed, and hugged Harry, "I'm back! You haven't died! Nor have I!You're not going mad yet! I really am back!"  
Harry swore, and immediately began to ask Ron questions about what the heck he'd been doing for the last 2 years.  
  
"That's something we'd all like to know!" Hermione interrupted "I mean, people just don't disappear for ages, then turn up right as rain. It doesn't happen."  
Suddenly, the expression on Ron's face changed. He had suddenly realised why he was where he was-- not to join his friends again, but to spy on them. Hermione's question brought him to his senses. His face suddenly became very sober, especially compared to the grinthat had been there formerly.  
"Ron? Are you all right?" Ginny hugged him "Was it really that awful?"  
"No, I, er," Ron began, then changed track "I mean, yes. It was awful. I managed to... escape the Muggles after they attacked..." he spoke slowly, as if recounting something that his that memories were dim and painful of, even though he was lying through his teeth, "but I was wounded. I ran... they chased me... and they caught me. They took me somewhere... tried to kill me... I escaped again, but I didn't know where I was. I've spent every day since then looking for you. For my friends..." he put his face in his hands.   
There was a long moments silence.  
"You've found us, though," Ginny reassured him, beaming "You did it. So try and forgetthat. I know it must have been horrid, but everything's OK now, right?"  
He nodded, "Right. You're right. But now I'm here," he looked at Hermione, who refused to meet his eye, "I'm not so sure I'm welcome."  
"Of course you are," Harry reassured him, "It's the best thing that's happened in these two wretched years, I'll tell you that for certain. Ow," he added, "My leg's killing me. Some bloody idiot shot me," he added, by way of an explination.   
"If you want us to go--" Ron began.  
"No way! This is too great," Harry beamed emotionally, "We've got loads to talk about.Hermione, how come you're so quiet?"  
"No reason."  
"I suppose she's shocked," Ron put in quickly, "still, got to bash on, that's what I say."  
But Hermione had stopped listening again. She stood there, as the conversation flowed over her, not hearing a word. She wanted to believe Ron so much, but something inside her was ringing warning bells. Something wasn't right. It couldn't be Ron...   
could it?  
That night, she lay awake, her mind working ceaselessly. She missed Ron, even though he was there. Why couldn't she just be like the others, and accept the story?  
She must have fallen asleep eventually, because the next thing she knew, morning had broken, and bright light filled the dusty air.   
If it had been a few years ago, birds would have been singing, but now there was nothing but a forbidding silence, like the lull before a storm.  
____________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Read & review! Also, thanks to my beta reader, hermione potter, as always! If you review, tell me what way you would like romance to go in this... I was originally gonna do R/ H, but I think hermione potter would kill me. :) So... what do you guys want? Tell me, and whoever gets most votes, them I'll do. I draw the line at R/ G [Ron/ Ginny], though... :) 

Cheers 

Ginny :) 


	6. Echoes Will Answer

'To Sleep No More' Part 6

by Ginny :)

_ "... echoes will answer the names as they call,_

_ and ashes will smother the tears as they fall,"_ -- Robert Swindells. 

All the pairings got equal votes, which means I get to decide! That's G/ H, but not nessisarily R/ Hr... you'll find out why. Hey, stop groaning! 

Sorry this took so long- I had exams all this week, so, I've been busy. As from now, I will have rehearsals for 'Fiddler On The Roof' 3 times a week, plus dance/ drama school twice a week... that means I haven't much time for writing. If it's any consolation, I'm writing a series called 'Fluke' which, although my writing it will delay this story a little, I will be able to post more quickly, cuz I'm writing it ahead of time, if you see what I mean...? I'm going to try and get Jacquline more in the next parts, but I need these parts to make the story make sense! 

Jacqueline belongs to me, everyone else belongs to JKRowling, and the 'waiting' song belongs to whoever wrote 'The Match Girls'. 

Read & review. 

Ginny :) 

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The longer Ron stayed with his regained friends, the closer they grew again. It was almost like old times; before Hogwarts was destroyed by Death Eaters; before London became little more then a nuclear fallout area; before magic was outlawed; before the Muggles swore to kill this strange new spices they'd suddenly discovered, the Spacers. 

Killing Spacers, eh? 

Better then killing people. 

Before Ron rejoined his friends at MRAMF [Magical Resistance Against Muggle Forces, remember?], everything had seemed... so ugly. Now he looked at his friends. He had seen happiness in their eyes now that they believed him; he had heard Ginny singing loudly and discordantly; he had seen Harry laughing like he had not done in years; he had seen Ginny dancing around, twirling, her face alight, her hair standing out around her dirty face like a halo, even in the midst of the filth, the cold, and the rain; 

Was that really so ugly? 

He had seen Hermione crying. 

She did not believe him. 

Was that really so beautiful? 

And then he remembered. Remembered what he was supposed to be doing. Ron knew that if he did not play his friends right into the hands of Jacqueline Raoul, he was as good as dead. 

Betray them, and wish you had died, or go against Raoul and get killed. Was there a choice? 

Not to even consider what the best prospects for yourself were, was practically inhuman. Survival of the fittest. Human instinct at it's deepest. '_Gentlemen Vs Cavemen'_. No contest. 

And, Ron thought, that is the one thing every human can hate in themselves. No human can say that they have never thought that way, even on a different scale. Frightening. 

He sighed, and went to get the bucket that they used to collect water from a nearby water barrel, which wasn't too badly damaged. One thing that magic could not do, was make clean water. 

If Raoul didn't kill his friends, is they escaped another cold winter, then drinking radioactive water and eating contaminated food, would. 

He was going to meet her later that day. He would decide his own fate, and the fates of his friends. 

The worst sentence on earth. Perhaps even worse then a life stretch in Azkaban, and with a similar effect on the mind. 

* 

_Jacqueline's POV_

_I have to say, all things considered, I do not know if I trusted Weasley. I know he said that he would make my life a whole lot easier, and somehow deliver the other Spacers right to me, but maybe, when he meets them, he'll rethink? _

_ He thinks I'm insane, and I maybe I am, but it'd be even more insane to stay what would normally be called sane, in a place like this. I don't know if that makes sense, but I don't suppose it matters. Nothing makes sense where Spacers are concerned. _

_ You have to envy them. They can do so much with their magic. They can heal wounds, cure sickness, put things to rights again, whilst us Muggles have to continue as we always did, trying to get by._

_ *_

"Hi, Harry," Ginny stuck her head around the door to the room where Harry was trying to sleep, "you awake?" 

"Yeah." 

"Hermione told me to come and take your sheets for cleaning, so I've come, although I don't know why she bothers." 

"You know Hermione," Harry explained it away "She's always been like that. Dead organised." 

"I suppose so. Can I take the blanket, then? It won't be long, and it's not that cold just now. I think spring might be coming soon." 

"OK." 

He watched her cross the room. As she made to take the worn out blanket that he had wrapped around himself, he made a snap decision, and caught a hold of her arm. 

"What? Harry, let go!" 

"Ginny, I want you to help me walk again." 

"I don't think-" 

"I know that I can. I'm fed up with sitting around here. Help me walk." 

"I don't think... see what Hermione says, she's knows about this stuff. You mightn't be fit enough-" 

"Just help me, Ginny. If anything happens, tell Hermione it was my idea, right?" 

"Well... OK," She shrugged, still not completely happy with the idea. 

"Cheers," he said, swinging his legs round over the side of the bed. 

She helped prop him up, as his feet touched the floor. He stumbled over the edge of his robes, almost toppling to the floor, but Ginny caught him just in time, "Careful!" 

"I'm OK, stop worrying." 

Harry had never thought that it was possible to forget how to walk. However, his legs seemed to have new ideas of their own, which didn't have anything to do with what his brain wanted. 

"Are you sure you're all right?" 

"I'm fine. Really. I just need a bit of practice." 

"But doesn't it hurt?" 

"No. I think my leg's better again, actually." 

She continued to support him, propping him up by the arms. It was like teaching a toddler to walk. They reached the opposite wall, and Harry collapsed against it, taking his weight off of Ginny. 

"Now," he said, "I want you to let me walk on my own." 

"Don't be daft, you-" 

"Please. I know I can do it. And you'll catch me if I fall, right?" 

"Well, I, er, don't know..." 

"Fine then, I'll walk back without your help. You can't stop me, after all. I _know_ I can do it." 

"All right," she agreed after a moment's silence, "I believe you." 

"Everyone's always thought I'm weak, and I'm fed up with it!" 

"We don't think you're weak, Harry, I just want you to-" 

"All right, I believe you then. OK, here goes," Harry let go of the wall. He took his steps slowly. One after another. Each time, Ginny was sure that he was going to fall, but each time, he righted himself again. 

"You can do it!" She reassured him when he almost fell to the floor a second time "I know you can!" 

This seemed to strengthen his resolve. He stood still for a moment to regain his balance, before continuing. Slowly... slowly... Ginny continued to hover behind him 'just in case'. Two more steps... 

"You did it!" She beamed at him "You really did! I didn't think you could, but you made it!" 

"Yeah," he smiled, ridiculously pleased with himself, "Yeah, I did." 

Ginny seemed almost stupidly excited, twice as much so as Harry. She danced around maniacally, absurdly pleased for him. 

"Hey, calm down, it's not that exciting," he said, laughing despite himself, "You're acting like Pigwidgeon used to." 

"Who cares?" she beamed up at him, "It's great. I'm just impressed. And nothing good ever happens round here, so why not celebrate?" 

"Why not indeed? You always were two biscuits short of a picnic." 

"Oh, cheers, Harry," she rolled her eyes, giggling "anyway, I probably ate them." 

"Eh?" 

"The biscuits!" she explained, "I et them!" 

Harry couldn't help but laugh. It felt so good to laugh. He'd barely even smiled for what felt like years. He was never completely sure why, or even how, but the next thing Harry knew was that Ginny's lips were on his. 

Gosh... 

They kissed sweetly. And neither of them had planned it. It just... happened. Life can be like that, forever springing something new on your head. 

This kiss was something good, something right, even in the midst of all the world's evil. 

* 

_Jacqueline's POV_

_ I waited for Weasley to show up._

_ Where the hell was he?  
It's hard to tell the time, since everyone's watches stopped long ago, and there's no other way of telling left. People say 'it's teatime', or 'It's 6 PM', in the same kind of way that they now say 'It's Cuckoo Spit day' or 'It's Easter', but no one really knows. _

_ We can count years by seasons, but that's about it. At a guess, I'd say now was early spring, but I can't be sure. I could be a mild winter. _

_No one even knows what day it is any more. _

_Where was that idiot Spacer? He could turn up any time today, and believe me, waiting's no fun at all, especially if you don't know whose watching you. _

_ Like that song... 'waitin', waitin', always bleedin' waitin'... still be bleedin' waitin' on the day you die... day you die... day you die...' that musical had always depressed me. Oh well. _

_ 'Waitin', waitin', ain't it aggravatin'! Still be bleedin' waitin' on the day you die... day you die... day you die...' _

_"I'm here."_

_"Wha'?" I spun round quickly, the voice taking me off my guard._

_"Hi," Weasley greeted me, raising an eyebrow. I lowered my gun._

_"Oh, hi," I nodded "Are you back with..?" _

_"Yeah, I am actually."_

_"Excellent. Have to admit, I didn't think you'd turn up." _

_"Well, I did."_

_"Yes, I can see that. Anyway, I've got a plan, Weasley." _

_"Good for you."_

_"Stop trying to be a smart alec," I frowned at him "and listen."_

_"Yeah, yeah, OK, OK," he shrugged, "so tell me what you've come up with."_

_"Right. It's become your job to collect the water, right?" _

_"Yes, so what?"_

_"So, tomorrow, insist on one of them coming with you, or else on anyone but you going. Ideally, without their wands, but I suppose sometimes that can't be helped. Alone, each one should be easy pickings." _

_Ron nodded, a sickly sour feeling in his stomach. He had 24 hours to decide who would be the first to die..._

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Yay! :) One more part down! Incidentally, I now have a webpage, http://www.geocities.com/foolish_faye/Authorshomepage.html?985632009170 [copy and paste the URL into the li'l address boxy thing], I've drawn some characters from this series, and I've posted them on the site. I've got Ron to draw yet, but the others are there [Harry, Hermione, Malfoy, Ginny and Jacqueline]. 

Please read, review, and check out my 'art'!!! 

Ginny :) 


	7. Miscreant's Sickness

'To Sleep No More' Part 7

by Ginny :)

Here is part 7! I think it's part 7, anyway. If I'm wrong, then ignore me. Hah, it's bit late to do anything about the shippiness [hehe] of this fic now. I'm not usually H/ G, but it works in the story best, *I* think. All flames will be donated to the homeless, to keep them nice 'n' toasty warm. :) 

I own Jacqueline, and any random dead bodies. And that Jonathan bloke who was at the beginning of the series, who has, mysteriously, disappeared, lol. [*Cough*plot device*cough*]. 'We're looking for a Piano' belongs to the person who wrote 'Salad Days'. 

Bunny Chan... Denise Weasley's [^_^] prediction was right! As you can tell by the fact I'm posting this so quickly, lol... see ya soon! :) 

Thankyou, hermione potter, for beta-ing. Read & review, please. 

Ginny :) 

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Ron slouched back to the dugout slowly, mulling over his thoughts. What to do?  
Be killed, or kill and wish you'd been too? Some choice. Some life.  
As Ron re-entered the dugout, and saw Hermione working away, washing again- this time Harry's patched blanket, which Ginny had delivered to her with a more then slightly suspicious grin on her face- and Ron wondered if he could ever find it in his heart to betray her. He doubted it, just now. All right, so she didn't trust him anyway, but they could make amends; they could start over; everything would be all right.  
"Oh, hello Ron," Hermione glanced up at him, then went back to her task, pushing her lank hair back behind her ears.   
"Hi," he replied. He stood and watched her.  
"Can I help you?" she raised an eyebrow at him sardonically, noticing he was still there.  
"You can try."  
"What?"  
"Hermione," he looked into her face. It was so much older then it should have been. Constant war and the fight for survival had aged her, so she looked nearer 40 then 24. Except her eyes. Those large, fathomless, child-like eyes...  
"Ron? What?" her voice took on a sharper tone, bringing him to his senses.  
"Do you believe me yet? Believe that I'm me, I mean."   
She considered this. Ron couldn't tell what the answer was by her face, until she replied, "I don't know. I... think so..."   
"Then," he plunged on, "do you still love me?"   
She didn't answer. Not a word.  
"Hermione?"  
Silence.  
"Hermione? Please?" he kissed her. She smelt of earth and damp, nothing at all like the bath salts she used to have. She kissed him back sweetly. Ron felt light-headed. The kiss must have gone to his head, because he put his tongue in her mouth. Maybe she'd been expecting this, or maybe it took her by surprise, because she bit it.  
"Ow!" He drew back.  
"Sorry," she apologised, "but I don't think this is right."  
"What? Hermione, how can this-"  
"Ron, I swear, if times weren't like this, I'd love to get back with you. But times are like this. Don't you see?"  
"What is there to see?" he was annoyed now, "Hermione-"   
"No. I can't. I remember," she paused, and looked as if she was about to cry, "I remember what happened last time I..." she paused "I can't get too close to people now... There's something you don't know about. And then I found out you were dead, and it was like... like.." she searched for the right words "I don't know. It was like nothing was right in the world any more. You and... and that, were the only things I had..." she wiped her eyes, furious with herself.  
" 'That'? Hermine, what do you mean?"  
She gave him a long look, almost calculating, "My baby," she said.  
"Your baby?!" Ron gaped at her. Hermione nodded, tears on her cheeks, "But who-?" began Ron.  
"Oh, don't be an idiot," she interrupted, frustrated "You know the facts of life, don't you?"  
"_Me?!"  
_Hermione gave him a withering look.  
"Oh..." Ron blinked "how come you didn't tell me?"   
"You went off, didn't you, before I knew. Bought some Muggle flat. I didn't want to tell you right off, anyway. I thought I would later, but then... well. I thought you were dead anyway..."   
"Hermione, I'm really, really sorry, If I'd have known... I wouldn't've..." he took hold of her arm, and though she recoiled slightly, he didn't let go, "I didn't... I mean..." 

"What?"  
"Never mind," he shook his head. He couldn't tell her about faking his death, it'd make everything worse, "why did it...?"  
"Not 'it'. He."  
"Well, he, then. What happened?"  
"It was the effect of the Nuclear fallout the Muggles caused. Hiroshima all over again."  
"Hiwhatima?"  
"Hiroshima," she repeated, "you know what happened to babies in Hiroshima, don't you? When America dropped a Nuclear bomb on them?"  
"Er... no," he admitted.  
"They were..." she paused, wincing, and looked as though she was trying to block out the memory, "Malformed." Ron stared, open mouthed "And... your baby-"  
"-_Our's _-"  
"-Our baby..?"  
She nodded, "That's why I can't... I just can't..."   
Ron put his arm round her shoulders. She was shaking, cold, and her eyes were red. Hermione seemed to pull herself together, "It doesn't matter now," she said, her voice sounding choked, like she was forcing herself to say the words, "it's all past. All gone," she put her hands over her face, "It doesn't matter... now..." She broke down in tears, Ron cradling her.  
He noticed that she was coughing through her sobs. At first he thought little of it; she'd been coughing a lot recently. It wasn't surprising, when you considered that she'd spent a deal of time recently up to her elbows in freezing cold water. She'd become obsessive about cleaning. He supposed it was her way of coping.   
Then Ron noticed that, every time she coughed, blood came out of her mouth.  
"Hermione!"  
"What?" She seemed to pull herself together a little, wiping the tears off her face, and giving him a weepy grin.  
"Are you all right?"  
She shrugged, and wiped the blood that had been coughed onto her hands on her paltry robes, "My chest hurts, and my head aches somewhat," she admitted, "but I won't be like this for very long." Another of her empty smiles, with no emotion behind it.  
Ron went cold "What do you mean?"  
She shrugged again "I've got what they call Miscreant's Sickness."   
"Which is?" Ron stared at her desperately. He'd vaguely heard of it, but it had never really sunk in. There had been some victims in the old farm building where he'd used to work, but they'd been kept in a separate room, where they couldn't spread the desiese, and where they were out of sight.  
Sometimes, he saw their cold bodies being removed, hidden under sheets. It affected only half- bloods and Muggle- borns, and sometimes Muggles. Pure- bloods wdere immune.  
"You dion't want to know what it does," she informed him, "half our number died of it last year. Hannah, Seamus, Angelina, Justin... and others. All gone."  
"Died?"  
"Yes." 

She didn't look sad. Just distant, not quite with it. Her mind was not in the same place as her body. Perhaps it was with her parents, and this... child. Ron couldn't take either idea, the child, or this... this Miscreant's Sickness, in. The mind doesn't believe what it doesn't want to believe. 

"Do the others know about you?" 

"No." 

He tried to put his arm round her again, but she ducked away, "No, Ron, I said I didn't want all that. You know why, now. There's so many reasons, and I don't even know what half of them are. Not that that makes sense." 

"I just want to remember what it was like to hug you, before..." he stared at her, still not believing that she might soon be gone, "... before it's too late." 

"You've got to have your feet on the ground, not your head in the air," she told him. 

"I can do both!" 

She looked at him, almost pityingly. 

"So can everyone," he added, as an after thought. 

Ron knew then that he couldn't betray Hermione. He'd heard of the Miscreant's Sickness. He knew what it did to you. At least this way, Hermione would be dead, and it wouldn't be his fault. 

"Oh, hello peoples," Ginny stuck her beaming face around the doorway, "What's doing?" 

"Hello, Ginny," Hermione greeted her, turning away from Ron, who had suddenly started looking almost incredibly gormless, "You're cheerful." 

"Yes, well, I suppose I'm just in a good mood," Ginny nodded, not feeling like telling Hermione about Harry-- at least, not with Ron there, earwigging, "Oh, Ron, do you want me to fetch the water today? This place is driving me utterly bananas, I could do with a stroll." 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

_~*~Jacqueline's POV~*~_

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

_There I was. Waiting-- again. Pity that there's no way to tell the time. It would have made my life a lot easier. Maybe, somewhere, there's someone making marks on a wall each day, like they do in prisoner of war films, so they at least know what day it is. Still._

_ Then I heard singing, a girl's voice, not exactly tuneful, and another voice- Ronald Weasley's- talking along side of it. Complaining, it sounded like, and who can blame him?_

_"... Any time you're Lambeth way..."_

_"Ginny, shut up."_

_"... any evenin' any day, you'll find us all..." _

_"Ginny! G' sake!"_

_"... doin' the Lambeth Walk, oi!..."_

_"Put a sock in it!"_

_"... Ev'rythin's free an' easy..."_

_Good grief. It's enough to give a sane man nightmares. Just as well there's not many of them left nowadays. _

_ I smiled to myself, hidden just behind the water drum. That Ginny kid obviously didn't have a clue that I was there. I doubted that she was armed, too. Weasley had even less will- power then I thought._

_I pointed the barrel of the gun around the water drum. Slowly, carefully, I aimed it towards the girl, which wasn't easy, because she was dancing about to the tune she was singing. Well, her talent was nothing the Earth would miss. _

_I pulled the trigger._

* 

Something hit the ground hard, not 5 inches away from Ginny's foot. She stopped short, no longer singing, frozen in mid- twirl. 

"Get down!" Ron grabbed her, and pulled her to the ground. 

"What?!" Ginny gaped at him, not understanding what was happening. 

"That was a bullet! Lie low, and she can't hit you! She's behind the water drum!" 

_Jacqueline's POV_

_What the Hell did he think he was doing?! This wasn't supposed to happen. No point in staying hidden now, though; they knew where I was. _

_There's only one way to deal with people like him who go against the word that they have given to me... and this time, I won't run out of bullets._

_*_

"We've got to get out of here, then!" Ginny jumped to her feet quickly, grabbing Ron by the arm, dragging him along with her. 

The woman, whose name Ginny did not know, was hot on their heels. 

Run. Run. Horror. Shots. Stumble. Terror. Trip. Shots. Fear. Back on their feet. Run. Scream. Shot. Bang. Hurry... hurry! Run. Run. Running. Dread. Bang. Scream. Yell. Another shot. Scream. Shot. Shock. 

Ginny felt the bullet hit her in the back and enter her stomach. 

Pain. Pain. Pain... 

Dead. 

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Please read & review!!!! 


	8. 'He Who Places His Brother In The Land I...

'To Sleep No More' Part 8

by Ginny :)

OK, here goes part 8! 

Since quite a few of you people reviewing this have said that this isn't at all the kinda thing you'd usually read, if it makes you feel any better, this isn't at all the kinda thing I'd usually write. No, I can honestly say, I've never written anything with as much depression and violence in it as this, lol. ^_^ Just as well, really. 

I expect you all hate my author's notes, but I like reading other people's ones, and writing my own. :) Hah. 

And I know now why I put Malfoy in it to begin with... but I stupidly killed him off early... grrrr... 

Anyway, read & review!!! 

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Ron saw Ginny fall, but didn't have time or ability to do anything for her. He ran on, glancing behind him for a second. He knew she was dead. Nothing could have a hole in it like that and still be alive. No time to think. _Don't_ think. Thinking can be fatal. He raced on, the footsteps of the woman right behind him, the gun still firing every so often. 

His inticts were directing his every move, every nearve in his body screaming at him to run for shelter; home. The dugout. He barely thought about the fate of his sister. He knew if he did, he'd lose the will to live. 

Ron knew that if he thought about the immanse pain in his side, the aching of his legs, the gripping feeling in his chest, fear and pain would grip him, and he was as good as dead. His legs scissored into strides, and he seemed to lose control over himself. 

He had to get home. To safety... that's what his insticts all told him, clouding all other thoughts in his head. 

The dugout wasn't far now... he could see the pile of earth, wood and rubble that marked it. He put his head down, and with a final spurt of speed, he raced through the entrance, tripping up where there was a drop between the door and the ground. 

He collapsed against the wall. It felt as though someone was sticking athousand knives into his chest. His legs gave way. 

Then he realised what he'd done. He'd lead the enemy straight to their safehaven. She knew where they lived! 

_*_

_Jacquline's POV_

_ I stopped running as Weasley entered the well- disguied dugout. So that's where it was. I grinned to myself. This would make my mission a whole lot easier... I'd never known exactly where they're little hiding place was, and now that I did, everything could be as easy as pie... assuming they didn't try and run away. On the other hand, if my judgement was correct, Potter wouldn't be doing any running at all for somt time yet. _

_ On the plus side, I was one Spacer down, 3 to go. And that Weasley girl was definitely dead. I hadn't seen hide nor hair of that Malfoy boy, either, since I'd shot him some weeks ago. It would be safe to assume that he, also, had copped it. This was looking good._

_ I'd get Weasley back. He was now on my hit list. True, he'd delivered Miss Weasley to me, but he had tried to defy me-- to warn her. That will not do. _

_*  
_

If Ron had had enough breath left, he would have sworn. As it was, the race across the endless expanse of bombed- out London was enough to take all the breath out of him. Soemthing told him that Raoul wasn't fool enough to follow him inside. She'd have realised that there was bound to be wands and things; she wasn't completely stupid, after all. 

Ron slumped onto the floor, leaning against the wall, face in his hands. He was crying. He remembered seeing Ginny fall. He remembered the blood all around her. He remembered how much he loved his sister, his one surviving reletive. 

True, when he'd set out with her earlier, he'd intended to let Raoul kill her and be done with it, but he'd found himself reacting on instinct, warning her, trying to save her. Not that it had worked. She was dead now. 

The tears ran down his face, making marks in the dirt and dust that caked it, like rivers in a valley. 

Everything had gone wrong again. So, so wrong. He might as well be true to his friends now. He was on the Muggle's hit list, almost certainly now. 

Why had he ever gotten mixed up in this... he'd wanted to work against Death Eaters, not his friends and family. Oh, God, eveything was so horrible. And so real. 

The papers had always been full of people dying, Muggle tellys were overrun by stories about death, destruction, mysery and woe. Many books and films were no better. People just accepted it. Ron had done. People were desensitised, so that many of them no longer cared what happened to other's families. Until it happened to them. This wasn't a book. Or a film. Or Newsround on CBBC. Or even some story he was being told by someone or other with an over- active imagination. This was real. 

He'd have to tell Harry and Hermione about Ginny. That would be awful. Almost as if, to put it into words would be to make it come true. And he'd have to tell them about his giving away their hiding place. 

Did he really have to tell them, just yet? 

Of course he did. There was no choice. They had a right to know. Ron wished that he didn't have to be the one to tell them, but then, he hardly had a choice. 

Determinedly, he wiped the tears from his face. 

~*~ 

Hermione was asleep on the floor in one of the rooms, with a threadbare blancket wrapped around her thin shoulders, and match- stick legs sticking out the end. Her face looked pasty, and every so often, she could cough, and blood would come out of her mouth. 

Ron wished that she looked again like the old Hermione, with board shoulders, a shy smile, and no bones sticking out in her joints, like they did now. Ron realised he was procrasinating. He sighed, took a deep breath, and shook her a little. 

"Hermione?" 

"Hmm?" She tunred over, and looked at him through half- closed eyes. 

"Er... hi," Ron realised that he didn't know how to begin. 

"'Lo, Ron. You two back?" she mumbled. 

"In... a manner of speaking," Ron agreed, wincing at the memory. Hermione noticed the look on his face. 

"You've been crying," she said. 

"I know... I know. Hermione, I... Ginny-" but he couldn't finish the sentence. His face crumped up, and he was sobbing, once again, into his bony hands. 

Hermione sat up, staring at him, "What about Ginny?" She asked, a note of urgency in her voice, coughing. 

Ron shook his head. He couldn't... he just couldn't... 

"Tell me!" she persisted, "What's wrong?!" 

"Ginny..." 

"What about her? Is she all right?" Hermione bit her lip. 

Ron shook his head. 

"Ron, please, please tell me..." 

So he told her. Everything. It was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do in his life, tell someone something like that. 

When he'd finished, Hermmione didn't say anything. Not a word. Ron had managed to stop crying as hard, and sat with his face in his hands again, staring into his fingers. 

And then tears came from Hermione's eyes, too. She sat there. They sat there. Together. At least, she spoke. 

"Have you told Harry?" 

"No." 

"Do you wan't me to tell him?" 

"Yes... I mean no... I mean..." 

"Well, someone has to," Hermione rubbed her eyes. Her skin looked papery thin on her hands, Ron noticed. None of them was what could be described as 'chubby', but Hermione was wasting away from quicker then the others. When there was food now, she didn't eat it, because it hurt her to swallow. 

In the end, Ron told Harry, who reacted much like Hermione. 

After everyone being so happy at Ron's arrival, they felt espeacially crushed at the loss of Ginny. Ron felt as though he was completely resposible for his sister dying, and for the whole change in mood. 

Everyone tried to imagine Ginny up there, in Heaven, with the angels, with enough to eat, nothing to hide from, no horrors to be scared of, with a warm bed and no pain. But then they'd remember she was dead, and nothing about it seemed happy or blessed. 

They all crept out after dark that night, under the assumption that the Muggle was at home asleep, and found Ginny's body, cold on the ground. 

"'He who places his brother in the land is everywhere,'" Hermione quoted, as though it were a prayor. 

Ron and Harry looked at her, questioningly. 

"all over the land, everywhere, people are burying their sisters and brothers... just like this," she explained, sadly. 

And it was true. There was no one left alive, who had not lost someone close to them, from the lowest raking Spacer, to the highest ranking Muggle, each had suffered at the hands of the other. 

And the all wondered; would the terror ever end...? 

____________________________________________________________________________________________ 

OK, sorry that was short, but as I keep explaining, I haven't that much time at present. 

[Incidently, I've been co- writing a fic with my friend Bunny Chan, called 'Even Angels Make Mistakes!'. It's posted under the name 'bunny chan & Ginny :)'. It's a light hearted story, about an un- angelic angel called Melissa, who is VERY ANNOYED when she is sent on a top secret mission to Hogwarts by accident. Basically, I wrote it because this was depressing me. I think it's very funny, but that's just me. To check it out, go to 

http://www.fanfiction.net/index.fic?action=Directory-AuthorProfile&UserID=37565 

and click on the fic's title!] Please don't forget to read and review eitehr this one or that!!!!! 

Ginny :)  



	9. Dreaming Of Forever

To Sleep No More

'To Sleep No More' Part 9

by Ginny :)

I want to dedicate this part to my grandad, my he rest in peace *sniffle* :-( 

Incidentally, Versper, since you asked, we are not doing the Holocaust or WWII in history. We are doing Elvis Presley, who can be just as depressing, when you've just written a 10 page essay about him, trust me. 

Oh... and when I said that Ron told Hermione & Harry everything, I meant about Ginny getting killed, not how he worked against them! He isn't that much of an idiot. Well, probably not. Bets? :) 

And Ginny isn't [well, wasn't] meant to be self- insertion, for all those who seem to have decided that she was for some reason. I just chose her name as a pen name because I like the name! Nothing to do with self- insertion, I'm afraid. 

here goes the fic! Please read and review! 

Ginny :) 

____________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Times got gradually worse for the 3 friends. Ginny had been the one of them who ever had any hope for the future, and now she was gone, the days seemed so much darker. 

No laughter. 

No singing. 

No cheerful chattering. 

No nothing. 

Ron continually blamed himself, which, quite apart from anything else, agitated Harry and Hermione. He wanted to be alone again, for the first time ever since meeting his friends. He almost wished himself dead. But he had someone to stay alive for now. Two people. Harry and Hermione. 

Hermione was gradually getting sicker. Her hair had grown so thin you could see through to the scalp, and her eyes had sunk into her skull. She was now little more then a skeleton with skin on it to look at. Someone had to be there for her. 

Then there was Harry. His leg was little better, and it seemed doubtful that he would be able to walk without limping again. His knee still ached something terrible. He and Hermione were little help to each other. So Ron had to stay, if only for them. 

And Ron still loved Hermione deep inside, although she would have nothing to do with him in that way any more. Ron vaguely suspected that this had something to do with Harry; they had been living together without him for 2 years. Surely something had happened between them? They were certainly closer then ever before, although they both denied anything of that sort. 

They all wanted to leave their dugout, to a safehaven where no Muggles could find them, but getting anywhere was near impossible. Hermione was too sick, and Harry was too slow. 

Of course, there was also the problem of where to go. Hogwarts had long ago been destroyed by Death Eaters, with the deaths of hundreds of students and teachers, and so that was not an option. Diagon Ally and it's nearby streets had suffered a similar fate, blown to bits whilst innocent people went about their day's work of shopping and selling, and anyhow, there was no way to get there. The tube system had been shut down by Muggles, buses no longer ran, and the idea of Spacers owning any sort of transportation was laughable. The floo network had shut down long ago. 

So. What could they do except wait? Wait for death to come. Maybe it would come accompanied by sickness, maybe famine, maybe drought, maybe cold, maybe bullets. This Muggle woman, Raoul, was just another nail in the coffin of time. 

Ron sat, hugging his knees as the light faded, watching his friends fall asleep. Harry was snoring gently. The sound was almost soothing. 

Every night, one of them had to keep watch, because of the Muggles. Usually it was Ron, because Hermione never had enough strength, although Harry always did his fair share when he wasn't in pain. 

Eventually, Ron fell asleep too, even though he thought it would be impossible. Maybe everyone has just so much emotion, and when it's been used up, that's it; you just accept everything. Either way, all 3 slept, although not all of them had sweet dreams. 

Ron dreamed of loud noises surrounding him. People screaming. Bombs exploding. Curses blasting. Children crying. All was dark, and he could barely see the grey shadows of people that flitted by him like lost souls. Someone seemed to grab at his arm, but he wrenched himself free from their grasp. Words echoed indistinctly around his head, to faint and indistinct to be understood. But the voices sounded upset, devastated, tearful. Ron knew he had to help these feature-less people, but there was nothing he could do. He ran around, trying to help them with whatever it was they were trying to achieve, but they seemed to shrink away. There was nothing he could do for them. The world was spiralling away out of his grip out of control... 

Harry's dream was confused. He seemed to be holding a Muggle gun, but did not know how to use it. Something was following him. Something large, probably with teeth and claws. The only thing that was holding it back was the fact he had a gun in his hand. A gun he did not know how to fire. He ran, confused, through what seemed to be the Forbidden Forest. Everything seemed to spin around... he woke up and stared at the wall. Then everything seemed to settle down again, and he fell again to sleeping. This time, he had no dreams or thoughts in his head. 

Hermione was so deep in sleep she wasn't aware, for the first time in ages, of the pain in her stomach like a rat gnawing away at her insides, the cold that gripped at her like a dead man's hand, or the coughing that shook her body. 

She was far away from bombed- out London. Somewhere shrouded in a golden- pink mist, where, like Ron's dream, figures floated around here. But these figures were not the grey shadows that Ron saw, but full- figured people with misty features, who smiled at Hermione sweetly. She smiled back at them. They were beautiful. 

Then the figures seemed to come more into focus, and evolved into people she knew. The Weasleys, except for Ron, smiled down on her, and Fred gave her the thumbs up. Neville grinned and waved at her cheerily. Hannah Abbot smiled and Cho Chang beamed. 

Hermione smiled and laughed with them. 

And then Hermione saw her parents. Her parents! Who had been Gone for so long... she ran forwards and embraced them, crying with happiness. As her arms locked around them, she felt for a moment as though she was falling... falling... falling... 

She felt an impact like hitting the ground, and she knew that this was her place now. With her family. Ron and Harry would get by. She was not needed on earth any more; she had no use left there. 

When Harry and Ron awoke next morning, Hermione was lying, stiff in her bed, a smile on her face. Another star in the sky tonight... another Penny in Heaven. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________ _

Sorry that was soooo short, but right now, I'm all at what my sister Milly would call 'sixes and sevenzes'... my granddad has just died, I have a mountain of homework, a million other fics to work on, a show to perform in [Fiddler On The Roof], I just got back from Chipping [where I went on holiday], and I'm sure I'm going mad [well, madder]. 

... Whilest I'm writing this pointless author's note, I might as well ask for a little question I want a li'l help with... being, which fic would you people like me to work on next? I have ideas, that follow this note... Please tell me in your review which one you'd like to read... 

_Sunshine If Eternal Makes The Flowers Fade--_ A MWPP/ L story I started ages ago... kinda action/ adventure fic. I've been informed that it's funny, and who am I to argue...? I want to finish this, but I'm not sure how many people actually care if I do or not... and I'm still at a bit of a loss with the damn thing! 

_Fluke--_ Fluke Astley, a 4th year Hufflepuff, is completely average. Completely and utterly unremarkable, except for a talent for drawing. So... why does Tom Riddle want to be friends with her? [Romance... depending on how you look at it... erm... whatever... and no, rape etc., has nothing to do with it. Have a _nice_ day.] 

_Lily and James; Lapis Lazuri_-- a 5th series in my 'Lily and James' saga. Reading the other parts isn't 100% necessary, although it will probably help with this one. Set after the friends leave Hogwarts, Voldemort's power very much on the rise, James manages to get himself in trouble with Death Eaters. And who is expected to help him? I'll give you three guesses... Romancey, but don't expect anything particularly sappy, because I am the most hopeless romance writer ever born. 

_Lily and James; Times Twist And Turn About;_ I'll probably change the title. An alternative L/ J 5th series fic. Someone turns up in the Gryffindor Common room, and they are pretty surprised. And they aren't a death eater, or a spy, and the don't try to kill anyone, either, which is apparently very unusual for Hogwarts. Probably a mix of action/ adventure and humour. Reading the 4 series before it isn't really necessary, although it might help a little. [[They are; _Lily and James; Dreams Don't Come True _ [sappy romance], then _Lily and James; The 4 Powers_ [action/ adventure, mostly], then _Lily and James; Will 'O The Wisp_ [definitely action adventure, my fave series in the saga!], and finally, _Lily and James; The Tables Have Turned_ [Romacey-ish, but not L/ J. It involves Sirius and another character. This is more of a weird mix of genres...]] 

_Something I haven't Named Yet_-- Harry annoys Malfoy. Malfoy takes his revenge, and my weird sense of humour takes over. No, its _not_ a 'Harry annoys Malfoy, Malfoy takes revenge, so Harry takes revenge back, so Malfoy does something else... yadda yadda yadda... type fic. Anyone who likes Neville and Trevor will probably enjoy this story too! 

_Mary, Mary Quite Contrary_-- Now, this is... very strange. A new girl at Hogwarts has something to hide... Basically, this series is a very silly idea I got from goodness- knows- where... Don't read it if you take fanfiction too seriously, please! I'm basically seeing how far I can take the incredibly weird boundaries in fanfiction. Practically the complete opposite to 'To Sleep No More'. 

_The People Of Then--_ A 3rd original story! The world is turned upside down when a race of strange beings, magicians, fairies, elves and the like, decide to come from Then, and their own world, to Now, on Earth. More specifically, Oxfordshire, England. Can Tarot, Fij and Lally stop them...? Fantasy and humour. 

Well, please tell me!!!! Cheers!!! 

Ginny :) 


	10. Sentenced To Live

To Sleep No More

'To Sleep No More' Part 10

by Ginny :)

_**THIS IS THE LAST PART!!!!!**_

3 fics in one day... I have no life... 

The next fic I am writing is 'Fluke', and then a 5th 'Lily and James' series. No one voted for 'Fluke', but it's not as boring as I probably made it sound... I hope. :) 

Well, Share and enjoy!!! *Gets smaked for the Hitch- Hiker's Guide To The Galexy reference, and wanders off singing the Sirius Cybernetics Corp. 'Share and Enjoy' themesong ... which I will spare you reading.] 

Ginny :) 

____________________________________________________________________________________________ 

What was there for Harry and Ron to do about anything? Life was taking it's own pattern of events, and there was no way for either of them to control it.  
  
Both were devastated by Hermione and Ginny's deaths, but life was life and death was death, although sometimes it seemed to them both that they were living whilst dead. That should be impossible, but it's amazing what endless cold, hunger and fear can do to the mind. Sometimes it seemed to them, that someone was watching-- perhaps they were.   
  
Ron could never get the thought of Jacqueline Raoul out of his mind.  
  
There was almost nothing for either Harry or Ron to do, except worry and talk to each other. Ron was beginning to see why Hermione had always kept herself busy. If you allowed your mind to wander for any length of time, you became desperately depressed. Both suffered from it terribly. But neither of them could do anything about anything and that's what made it so much worse.   
  
The oddest thing was, even though they went on like this for week, both expected that Muggle to attack any moment. But she never did. They both found themselves hoping that something had happened to her.   
  
They let their guard down.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
~*~Jacqueline's POV~*~  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
_I kept watch on their Hell- hole of a dugout every day for some weeks. I kept hidden. I did not attack.   
  
I waited.   
  
They waited.   
  
I waited.  
  
They stopped waiting.  
  
I waited.  
  
They became complacent.  
  
I waited.  
  
They dropped their guard completely.   
  
I waited... and then I smiled to myself. Everything was ready. The stupid burks were not expecting me, and I knew it. They had not even tried to run away-- not that Potter could run if he tried.   
  
I saw them bury that Hermione girl. They were both crying. The Spacers were getting their come-uppence for what they did to my family and me. Finally, a little justice.   
  
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. That way, everyone will be blind and toothless, not just some of us.   
  
They are a wicked People. Spacers deserve everything they get-- and worse. Although, deep down, I do want to pity them, I must not let myself. They are evil people. They do not share their magic willingly, and never did. They called us Muggles, long before we called them Spacers.  
  
To them, it was as though we were never even human, as though we were unintelligent aliens to them, who were to be laughed at and ignored, or, in the case of many, murdered in cold blood, because we did not have the same powers as them. That is why we call them Spacers-- if we are alien to them, they must be alien to us. It's almost justice, when you look at it like that. Almost.   
  
It was time for me to finish off these 2 remaining ones in the area. Then I would get my revenge, my money, and I would have done something right in the world.   
  
It was early evening when I entered their dugout- it would not do for them to be asleep- and the sun was like a red circle painted onto the sky.   
  
I had 2 guns with me, and some spare bullets. I was not about to make the same mistakes as last time. I'm not stupid, whatever they might think.   
  
They were sitting around in one room, completely unsuspecting, talking.  
  
"Don't you ever wonder what happened to everyone from Hogwarts?" That was the Potter boy.  
  
"Sometimes. But if I were you, I'd try not to." Good idea, Weasley. I could tell you exactly what happened to half of them, and some of it ain't too nice.  
  
"Mmm. It'd be good if we could turn back time. I don't suppose Hermione kept her time turner from 3rd year?"  
  
"I don't know. I never asked... I shouldn't think so. You know what she was like, she'd have given it back to McGonagall as soon as it wasn't needed."  
  
"Yeah, I--"  
  
I stepped into the room, smiling nastily.  
  
"Hello, Weasley. Hello, Potter."  
  
Both their mouths dropped open. They stared at me. I heard Potter mutter something about not having his wand. I grinned. Weasley jumped to his feet, a wand in his hand. I sent a bullet speeding towards him, and it hit his wand before he had a chance to hex me. Green sparks showered from the end of the broken wand. He cursed, and the 2 Spacers exchanged horrified looks. It looked as though they were otherwise unarmed. Good.  
  
"Now, now, boys, it's not polite to try and kill guests."   
  
"Get the Hell out of here, Muggle," spat Weasley, "You killed Malfoy, and you killed my sister. Don't think I'm going to let you get away with that." He ran at me again, trying to knock me down. He hardly weighed anything. I stood my ground.   
  
"Your kind killed my family, so I kill yours. Justice, you think?" I looked at him through narrowed eyes. I hated them both. Spacers. Spacers, who destroyed the world with their wars against each other. They didn't care who they killed, so why should I?  
  
They both glared back at me. Both terrified. No doubt, both thinking they knew their fates.  
  
"That wasn't us!" Potter protested, "You can't kill people for something someone else did!"   
  
"Shut up, Potter," I turned to the other, "Weasley, I suppose I ought to thank you for showing me where you live. It looks like your 2- odd years of working for us Muggles paid off-- for me, at any rate," I watched both their faces. Potter had his mouth open, and Weasley was staring at me as though I was a ghost, "And thank you also for delivering your sister to me. But I have no more use for you, now..." I smiled, grimly. I knew that Weasley was no longer loyal to us, but Potter didn't. I had to have my revenge on him especially. He betrayed us. We, who looked after him, grudgingly admitted, but nonetheless, he surely owed us something.  
  
"What-?" Potter began. Not exactly winner of the uptake- speed competition, that one.  
  
"I didn't mean for that--" Weasley shouted, as much to me as Potter.  
  
Potter turned a face drained of colour to him, "You... you... did that?"  
  
"No! I mean, yes, I mean... I didn't want it to turn out like this... I mean..." he burbled over the words. I stood and watched them.  
  
"Admit it, Weasley. You killed your sister. You showed me where you all lived. You killed her, and you betrayed your friends."   
  
Both of them were shaking with anger. Potter was staring at Weasley with an expression like I had never seen before. Weasley's fists were clenched. They stared at each other, Weasley's eyes almost begging Potter's hard, cold, as though he was not letting himself cry.  
  
Suddenly, he flew at Weasley. His bad leg was a definite disadvantage, though, because he stumbled to the floor before he could reach him.   
  
"You... you bastard!" he yelled at Weasley, blood on his face where he grazed it on the floor. This was going be amusing.   
  
"Harry, I-"  
  
"All this time, you were, were working with them!"  
  
"Harry, it wasn't like that, I swear--"  
  
"All this time... All this time! Whom else did you murder?!"   
  
"I didn't murder anyone, I--" His eyes were huge with pleading, with fear, with guilt.  
  
Potter had picked himself up from the floor, and was leaning against the wall for it to support him. They both seemed to have forgotten that I was there.  
  
"Get out of here! I bloody hate you, you--"  
  
__**Bang.  
  
**I'd fired my gun at him. He fell to the floor like a rag doll. Dead. He was at close range, and was an easy hit.   
  
This would be my revenge on both of them.   
  
Weasley stared at me. He looked as though all the blood had left him.   
  
"You shot him!"  
  
"I know." Idiot.   
  
"And now... you're going to shoot me? Come on then. I'm ready." He thrust out his chin bravely, to prove to me he was not afraid.   
  
I looked at him, almost pityingly, "Don't be silly."   
  
"What?" he looked taken back.  
  
"Kill you? When I could let you live?" I smiled at him slowly, "Where would be the revenge in that? Goodbye, Weasley."   
  
I turned and walked away. I would not have got anything out of killing him. He was not on the Government hit- list. He was broken. He had no one to team up with. He was harmless.   
  
I smiled to myself as I walked away.  
  
_Ron's POV.  
  
I didn't mean for everything to go like this. Never. I wanted to help the Muggles work against the death eaters. But I was wrong. Everything is so twisted.  
  
I was responsible for the deaths of my sister, and Harry. I sob into my hands as the thoughts sink in.  
  
I know that I will remember Ginny's last song echoing round my head so happily. Just when she thought everything was going fine.   
  
_Everything's free 'n' easy... do as you damn well pleasey... why don't you make your way there... go there... stay there....   
  
_If only. If only...  
  
And I'll always see Hermione in my mind's eye, as the beautiful girl that she was, before everything turned out like this, before she turned into a living skeleton. Images flash through my mind. The one I know that I will never forget-- the skeleton-girl, lying on a bed, with her face so peaceful...  
  
_'Hiroshima all over again...'  
  
'... you were the only thing I had..._' and I did that to her... I did that...  
  
_'He who places his brother in the land is everywhere...'  
  
_She was right.  
  
Another 'brother' to bury.  
  
Harry. The last words my best friend spoke to me will always be in my memory.  
  
_'I bloody hate you.'  
  
'I bloody hate you.'  
  
'I.... bloody.... hate.... you....'  
  
_His body is lying on the floor, stiff; his eye's glassy and unseeing. Suddenly, I want them all back so much.   
  
Jacqueline Raoul was right. It's a far worse thing to let me live, then kill me.   
  
She gave me the worst 'revenge' of all. Worse then the Dementor's Kiss.  
  
My wand is in splinters; no use for that. But I know I can't go on...   
  
I find out Harry's old wand, and point it towards myself. I pray that my magic is strong enough. I have to see them again, my friends.   
  
"_Avada Kedavra_"  
  
I fall to the ground, engulfed by a green light. It feels like warm air. And then I am falling...falling... falling downwards... falling into a white light...   
  
I was not going to allow that filthy Muggle to give me the worst sentence of all.   
  
I was not going to let her let me live.  


_________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Please... read & review! Preferably constructive criticism, please! Tell me what I can improve in my writing, so my next story can be even better [and less depressing, hopefully]! Let me know if this story made you think, or made you cry or anything... please? I want to know if I was the only person seriously depressed by this! 

That really would be much appriciated. 

Cheers! 

Ginny :) 


	11. Stone crumbles, but the fragments remain

To Sleep No More

Epilogue

By Ginny :)

Due to a number of Emails and reviews requesting that I tie all the loose ends in this, I've come to write this final chapter. I'm just trying to come up with a better, more satisfying ending, and I hope you all like it, especially those who requested that I do this! 

The line about phoenixes was stolen from my history classes' cheesy speech on the Boer War. Just be thankful I didn't start talking about bits of oranges [don't ask]. :) 

Umm some of the ending of this involves heaven/ hell etc. I'm a New Ager, and don't believe in Hell [except as a state of mind or something, but let's not get into psycho-babble here], so by _MY_ beliefs, everyone ends up in the same place, if they don't stay on Earth and... er... yeah. Plus it's a really useful plot hole, so don't get at me about it, OK? LoL 

Hope you enjoy the final chapter. Doom and woe, and all that ^_^ 

Ginny :) 

____________________________________________________________________________________________ 

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

_~*~ Jacqueline's POV~*~_

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

_ Now it's ten years later, and I'm still here. Still wasting away in this desert they call England. Things have changed. Not a great deal, but they **have** changed. _

_ A few years ago now, the government got organised enough to elect a new Prime- minister, a new Parliament and a new House of Lord and House of Commons. Guns are illegal once again. The city is being re-built, rising from the ashes that were once a great city, like a phoenix from the cinders of a fire. People who left to seek better lives in Europe and America are coming back here. They don't always like what they see. _

_They call me a murderer. _

_ I don't deny it. I killed for revenge and for money, that's all there is to it, but I don't regret it. It's not something you can let yourself regret. I hated Spacers and continue to hate them with all my heart. In a war, you have to hate your enemy, otherwise... what's the point? Besides, you don't know how much I would give for 5 more minutes with my daughter or husband, whom the Spacers not only hurt, but left to die. They could have been saved. I know it. _

_ I wish with every nerve in my body just for a few measly seconds with my family. Who am I kidding? It's not going to happen. I won't see them until I die, and perhaps not even then. I don't want to die. I think I'm scared of what might be waiting for me. _

_ Most Spacers are still in hiding, I suspect, but some have begun to emerge. They are now protected by law, and a new police force of sorts has been introduced. Peelers tread the dirty streets, ready to break up trouble. People don't want a whole lot of new trouble started. It's trouble that got us into this mess in the first place. I look at the Spacers with hatred in my guts, but killing them is no longer a job, and as much as I dislike them, I think I have had my revenge. At least for now._

_ MacBeth may have said, "I am in blood stepped in so far, I may well continue as go e're", but I can't live the rest of my life on quotes. Besides, look what happened to MacBeth. If I don't end up like him, I'll turn out like his wife; mad. Old thoughts tormenting me, blood always on my conscience... and I know I'm getting old more quickly then I should do._

_ I married young-- seventeen-- and was a killer by twenty. Now I am thirty, and sick of the world. I have little energy left. What's the point in living on? I have no vocation in life. It's odd, with no-one to die for, I no longer have anyone to live for. _

_ I suppose I'll just continue, until time stops._

_~*~_

Is it possible for someone to forgive another; the person who was the doom of them? Who betrayed them, albeit unwittingly, and who was to blame for so much? 

Now that's a question only they can answer. 

Harry would have given anything to be able to forgive Ron. He had spent hours contemplating it, staring into space, sometimes with Ginny's not-so-thin now arm around his shoulders. She told him what she knew of what had happened, and how Ron had tried to save her. Harry continued to stare into space, almost as if he could see through the clouds, sky, through the universe, to... where he used to live. Earth. The United Kingdom. England. London. Walthamstow. His old dug out. Almost. 

As much as he'd wanted to, Harry could not see past the blue of the scented sky. The dead can only walk on Earth if there is someone left there they wish to see, or get vengeance against. 

Ron was not down there. 

Friendship is as thick as mud, as solid as stone, and... perhaps cannot be broken, even by the worst of things, if it is strong enough. Mud hardens over time, and becomes rock and almost stone. Stone crumbles, but the fragments will always remain. 

Their friendship was strong. 

The friends were reunited. 

Friends they remained. 

____________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Now, that really IS the end! Woohooo! 

Please read and review? 

Ginny :) 


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